Ethics, Faith, and Halakha – Lesson 12 – Rabbi Michael Abraham
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
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Table of Contents
- The structure of the course and where it stands in the semester
- Moral realism and the objective grounding of values
- Pluralism, moral disputes, and the distinction between description and essence
- Disagreement as evidence for objectivity, and the difference between taste and moral argument
- Tolerance versus pluralism and their cultural consequences
- The claim that many disputes are not moral but practical or ontological
- The law of a pursuer, “be killed rather than transgress,” responsibility versus guilt, and the collective
- Right and left: a metaphysical dispute about the collective, not a moral dispute
- The limits of the permission: “he could save him by injuring one of his limbs,” “there are no uninvolved people,” and the question of a third party
- The proof from morality for the existence of God, and how it differs from pragmatism
- Atheism and morality: philosophical consistency versus behavior
- Consciousness and the subconscious, paternalism, and a prayer quorum
- God as a condition for validity, not as a stick of punishment, and logical possibilities
- Kant’s categorical imperative: its content, “a sign and not a cause,” and reinforcement of the argument
- “If one cohabits with an Aramean woman, zealots strike him”
Summary
General Overview
The lecture presents the series as dealing with “morality, faith, and Jewish law,” after clarifying what morality is, and especially what objective morality is, and then moves to ground moral realism as an extra-personal anchor for good and evil. It rejects the move from descriptive pluralism to essential pluralism, and argues that disagreements are not evidence against moral truth and may even testify to its existence. In addition, it challenges the assumption that there are really substantive moral disagreements at all, because most arguments are about application or about ontological-metaphysical questions. Starting from the premise that there is valid morality, it presents the “proof from morality” (in Kant) according to which valid morality requires a legislating-validating agent and therefore leads to the existence of God, and clarifies that this is a conditional logical argument and not pragmatism, alongside a distinction between moral atheism in the behavioral sense and the impossibility of moral atheism in the philosophical sense. Toward the end, it also connects Kant’s categorical imperative to the difficulty of justifying non-consequentialist moral obligation without a legislator, and concludes with a halakhic note on “if one cohabits with an Aramean woman, zealots strike him” as a special law of zealotry for the honor of God.
The structure of the course and where it stands in the semester
The course is defined as a series on morality, faith, and Jewish law. Up to this point, the term morality has been clarified; the two remaining meetings will be devoted to morality and faith; and morality and Jewish law will be postponed to next semester. The arrangement is presented as modular, so that each part more or less stands on its own even for someone who was not present in another semester. The discussion so far includes the meaning of morality, the objectivity of morality, and various tests intended to establish the framework of the discussion.
Moral realism and the objective grounding of values
Objective morality rests on a conception of moral realism, according to which values are not floating subjective norms in the human psyche, but rely on an anchor outside the human being. The claim is that if the sovereign individual legislates his own values for himself, then it would be impossible to distinguish between a hired murderer and Mother Teresa, even though the judgment “good” and “evil” is understood as preceding personal decisions and measuring them. Moral realism is also presented as close to Platonism, in the sense that values can be regarded as abstract non-physical entities belonging to metaphysics rather than psychology, and they make it possible to derive judgments about actions in a way similar to the Platonic ideas from which one derives classification and categorization of objects.
Pluralism, moral disputes, and the distinction between description and essence
The claim that “there are moral disagreements, therefore there is no objective moral truth” is rejected through a distinction between descriptive pluralism and essential pluralism. Descriptive pluralism is a factual assertion that there are many opinions, something that can be empirically confirmed, whereas essential pluralism is a philosophical claim that there are many correct truths and no simple scientific way to verify that. The existence of different opinions is perfectly compatible with the possibility that one side is right and the others are wrong, just as in disputes in geometry. Therefore, the move from description to essence requires an additional assumption that does not follow from the disagreement itself.
Disagreement as evidence for objectivity, and the difference between taste and moral argument
Moral disagreements are presented not only as failing to refute objectivity, but even as pointing to it, because without moral truth there would be nothing to argue about, and the dispute would be like a disagreement over taste in a song. Moral argument is described as a normative claim that the other person is “not okay,” and not merely a description of differing customs. Therefore, the very form of the argument reflects an assumption that there is objective truth over which the sides disagree. Anyone who tries to use the existence of arguments as evidence for subjectivity must explain why the arguments themselves are confusion or error, and therefore they cannot serve as evidence against objectivity.
Tolerance versus pluralism and their cultural consequences
A criticism is raised against confusing recognition that different opinions exist with recognition that they are all correct, and the argument is that this confusion between tolerance and pluralism leads to a lack of boundaries and to legitimizing “everything and every bit of nonsense.” Tolerance is defined as including someone whom you think is wrong, whereas essential pluralism is seen as the assumption that there is no right and wrong, and therefore there is no principled place to limit such inclusion. Douglas Murray and his book on “the strange death of Europe” are used as an example of the claim that this failure is the root of cultural and social damage when acceptance of difference turns into the claim that everyone is right.
The claim that many disputes are not moral but practical or ontological
It is argued that the great majority of arguments that look moral are not disputes about moral principles, but rather about the application of agreed principles or about realistic-ontological definitions. The Nazis are described as people who did not claim that murder is permitted, but rather erred in defining who counts as a human being, or in diagnosing the threatening reality, so their mistake was in diagnosis and not in moral principle. Likewise, disputes about abortion are presented as arguments over the question of when a fetus is considered a person—that is, a metaphysical argument with moral consequences, not an argument about the prohibition of murder or the value of human life.
The law of a pursuer, “be killed rather than transgress,” responsibility versus guilt, and the collective
The discussion of targeted killings is mapped through two halakhic principles: the law of a pursuer, which permits and even obligates killing a pursuer in order to save the pursued, as opposed to “be killed rather than transgress” regarding the prohibition of murder, based on “what makes you think your blood is redder?” An explanation is proposed that distinguishes between guilt and responsibility, where the one who created the situation “pays the price” not as punishment but as the assignment of responsibility, and this is extended even to a pursuing minor, where responsibility exists even without guilt. The Talmudic issue of “they are pursuing him from Heaven” is brought with regard to a fetus as a factor exempting it from the law of a pursuer, alongside public illustrations of the distinction between guilt and responsibility through events like the Meron disaster and October 7, and the claim that even if guilt is removed, responsibility remains.
Right and left: a metaphysical dispute about the collective, not a moral dispute
The argument over harming the “uninvolved” is described as depending on a metaphysical mapping of reality: is the entity facing you a collection of individuals or a collective with real existence? The left is identified with an individualistic conception that sees the collective as a fictional definition and therefore treats the uninvolved as a third party, whereas the national right sees a national-collective struggle and therefore attributes the law of a pursuer to the entire collective in the sense of responsibility and not guilt. Maimonides and Nachmanides on the people of Shechem, and the Maharal, are presented as sources for understanding war as a confrontation with a collective, and the example of Stalin is used to show that even in a coercive regime, the threatening collective can justify action against civilians as part of collective responsibility, not personal guilt.
The limits of the permission: “he could save him by injuring one of his limbs,” “there are no uninvolved people,” and the question of a third party
The claim “there are no uninvolved people in Gaza” is accepted in the sense of collective responsibility and a collective pursuer, but the conclusion that one may kill everyone unnecessarily is rejected, because even with a pursuer there is the rule that “he could save him by injuring one of his limbs,” which forbids killing when the danger can be prevented without killing. A practical implication is presented regarding a foreigner not belonging to the collective, such as a “Swede” who happens to be there, who might be considered a third party whom it is forbidden to harm. At the same time, a possible line of reasoning is presented regarding shooting at a terrorist when a third party is present there as a “side effect” and not as an intention to kill. The example from Tosafot of someone thrown from a roof toward another person is brought to distinguish between active conduct and passive omission, and to explain why there is no obligation to “bend oneself away” and be killed in order to save another.
The proof from morality for the existence of God, and how it differs from pragmatism
The transition to morality and faith is formulated as the claim that the existence of valid morality is proof of the existence of God—the “proof from morality” that appears in Kant—and this requires a basis of objective morality, because subjective morality is defined as equivocation and is not morality at all. The argument is described as hypothetical: if there is valid morality, then there is God; or, if there is no God, there is no valid morality. Reaching the conclusion therefore requires the additional premise that morality is indeed valid. A rejection is offered of the accusation of pragmatism by reversing the direction of the argument: the conclusion is not “we invent God in order to justify morality,” but rather that we infer God from accepting the validity of morality. It is clarified that every logical argument rests on premises that one may dispute.
Atheism and morality: philosophical consistency versus behavior
It is said that the argument pushes the “moral atheist” to choose between giving up valid morality and giving up atheism, while emphasizing that the claim “there is no moral atheist” is not a behavioral claim but a philosophical one about validity and obligation. The good behavior of atheists is accepted as a fact, but explained as action stemming from inclination, pleasantness, or desire, rather than from commitment to a binding command. Real morality is defined as commitment to the moral command, like “Kant’s categorical imperative.” The debate with David Enoch is mentioned—he holds moral realism and argues that obligation is an axiom that does not need a legislator—whereas the opposing claim is that the intuition of obligation reflects an implicit belief in God, because conceptually there is no validity to laws without a legislator.
Consciousness and the subconscious, paternalism, and a prayer quorum
It is argued that a logical argument of this type does not “convert” the atheist into a believer, but shows him that he is a “hidden believer” if he clings to valid morality, while distinguishing between an unfounded paternalistic claim and drawing a conclusion from a person’s own statements. A question is raised about counting such a person for a prayer quorum, and the answer makes this depend on the person’s awareness of his belief and on what prayer means for him, so that what exists in the subconscious does not determine obligations or eligibility. The possibility is presented that a person may believe in God the Creator but not in the revelation at Sinai and the commandments, and his prayer could still be an appeal to that same God “like the Patriarchs,” even though it would not count as fulfillment of the commandment of prayer in the binding sense.
God as a condition for validity, not as a stick of punishment, and logical possibilities
The need for God is presented as a condition for the validity of morality and not as a threat of punishment that produces moral behavior, because moral behavior is clearly found even among people who are not afraid of punishment. It is not claimed that God is necessarily good or wants morality; rather, the implication is one-way: the impossible state is “there is valid morality and there is no God,” whereas “there is God and there is no valid morality” remains possible. The God required here is not necessarily identified as the God of Judaism, but He is required as an intentional being who has will and demand, and therefore He is beyond mere deism.
Kant’s categorical imperative: its content, “a sign and not a cause,” and reinforcement of the argument
After clarifying that the imperative is categorical in the sense of unconditional obligation that does not depend on self-interest, its content in Kant is described: to act in such a way that a person would want his action to become a universal law. It is argued that a consequentialist reading of the imperative is a mistaken interpretation, because the test is a thought experiment that marks an action as bad or good, rather than justifying it by actual outcomes. The example of tax evasion is used to show that an act can be labeled bad even when the practical consequence of one individual act is negligible, and therefore the question arises why one should refrain from it if no bad outcome results; the answer is linked to commitment to the binding command. From here it is argued that the content of the imperative strengthens the need for an authoritative legislator, especially in non-consequentialist cases where it is difficult to justify moral obedience without a binding source.
“If one cohabits with an Aramean woman, zealots strike him”
“If one cohabits with an Aramean woman, zealots strike him” is a law given to Moses at Sinai. The Talmud in tractate Sanhedrin derives this from the act of Pinchas son of Elazar. This is a law of “it is the law, but we do not instruct people to do so.” Meaning, if someone comes to ask the religious court, the court does not instruct him to do it. Only if he does it on his own initiative, in the very moment of the act, then zealots strike him. There is a substantive difference here between the prohibition of “you shall not marry them,” which is a regular negative commandment for which the religious court punishes, and this act, which is a public desecration of God’s name and a severe injury to the holiness of Israel. Therefore this is not related to the laws of war, but rather is a special law of zealotry for the honor of God.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, let’s locate ourselves and see where we stand in the flow of things. We’ve got one more meeting after this one until the end of the semester. Basically, the topic of this series is morality, faith, and Jewish law. In practice, what I’ve done up to now is talk about the first of those three terms—that is, what morality is. The next part is what—well, not what faith is, but what the connection is, morality and faith. And the third part is morality and Jewish law. Now, morality and faith I intend to do in the two meetings that remain, more or less, and morality and Jewish law will be the topic of next semester. So that makes it come out more or less modular, in the sense that even if someone wasn’t here in one of the semesters, it’s still more or less a self-contained unit. Okay, so basically we talked a bit about the meaning of morality, about the objectivity of morality, the trolley-type tests, various things of that sort, and we saw that at the basis of objective morality sits some conception of moral realism. Moral realism is some view that says values are not floating norms—that is, they’re not things that exist only subjectively within us, within human beings, in our psyche, in our intellect, wherever—but rather they have some anchor outside the human being. In other words, something objective that does not exist only inside me, something that provides an axis or a yardstick on the basis of which we measure what is good and what is evil. There has to be something out there somewhere that serves as the standard. If we assume, as Ariel Elón—whom I cited—assumes, that the sovereign human being legislates his own values for himself, then he won’t be able to distinguish between a hired murderer and Mother Teresa. Because both legislated their own values for themselves, and both devote themselves to them with impressive dedication. And still, I assume he would agree with me that these are not two exemplary figures. One maybe is, but the other definitely isn’t. And the reason is that she is good—Mother Teresa—and he is evil, the hired murderer. And that forces us to define the concepts of good and evil, because it means that in fact the concepts of good and evil precede my decisions. They measure my decisions. Once I decided something, I’m measured by whether I am good or evil. According to what am I measured? Apparently there is some standard outside me that dictates—or by which I measure—the person, the outlook that I am judging. That, basically, is moral realism. Someone who takes it further will say that these are even a kind of entities. Moral realism basically says that values are a kind of abstract Platonic entities that exist somewhere, and I apprehend them, contemplate them, or something like that. What? Not physical, abstract forms. My soul, my soul—there are those who claim that that too is a kind of entity. It’s not physical, but it’s something that exists. It’s not just a property of the physical entity; it’s another entity. There are entities that are not material and yet are still entities. In other words, this belongs to metaphysics and not to psychology. In short. And the question is whether moral values belong to the world of metaphysics—their semantic field is metaphysics—or whether their semantic field is psychology. Meaning, the question is what exists in my soul or in the external world in some sense. Not that I can point to the coordinates where one value or another is located, or say how much it weighs, what its mass is, and what color it is—but yes, it exists in some sense, and so this really goes in the direction of Platonism. Platonic ideas are basically kinds of abstract entities that exist, and from them I can derive characterizations, classifications, judgments of concrete objects or concrete events. In the case of moral values, I derive from them judgments of actions. In Platonic ideas, I derive from them sorting and classifying objects. But the logic is similar logic. That’s basically the claim, and entities of the kind—
[Speaker B] —from which norms can be derived.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, so that’s where we got to. Before I get to that, there’s one more section I need to get through, and that’s the question of moral relativism, moral pluralism, moral disagreements, and things like that. I think I already mentioned that people often argue that there are no objective moral truths because, after all, there are arguments, there are disagreements between different societies and different people about morality. So first of all, you have to understand that on the conceptual level, descriptive pluralism is not essential pluralism. Meaning, descriptive pluralism basically says: I know there are many opinions in the world. That’s a fact. It’s a factual claim, not a philosophical one. It’s a claim you can confirm by experiment—just ask people and you’ll see: people have many different views. That’s a claim that belongs to the world of science, not to the world of morality or metaphysics or whatever. It belongs to the world of science. In contrast, essential pluralism is pluralism that says there are many correct opinions. Not just that there are many opinions, but that everyone is right. Now that, there’s no way to verify on the simple scientific level. Against what do I measure your opinion in order to determine whether it’s correct or not? I have nothing to measure it against except my own opinion, of course, but I have no independent standard against which to measure it. So these are two completely different claims. Pluralism in the philosophical sense is a claim about a multiplicity of truths—in the moral context, say, a multiplicity of moral truths. Pluralism in the sense of the human sciences—anthropology, sociology, whatever—is descriptive pluralism. All it says is that there are different outlooks in different groups and among different people. Fine, okay, that’s a factual claim, but it doesn’t mean everyone is right. The fact that there are different outlooks is perfectly compatible with the claim that one is right and the others are wrong. It can be compatible. In other words, neither one dictates the other; you can adopt both, or you can adopt each one separately. So one does not entail the other. And therefore I think people are mistaken when they take descriptive pluralism and derive from it essential pluralism: since there are disagreements about moral questions, that must mean there is no moral truth. What’s the connection? There can also be disagreements about whether the sum of the angles in a triangle is one hundred and eighty degrees. People who don’t understand geometry will say no. Okay, so what? That means these are right and those are wrong. That’s all. In order to assume that everyone is right, you need an extra assumption beyond saying that there are different opinions. Okay, you can adopt that too if you want. Not that I quite understand what it means to say everyone is right—or maybe it means no one is right—but you need another assumption, one that can be accepted or rejected. And by the same token, I can also adopt the assumption that no, only one is right. True, there are many opinions in the world, but only one is correct. So that’s a very important distinction in this discussion. Let me add a few more comments about this. First comment: not only does the existence of moral disagreements not point to the subjectivity of morality, to the fact that there is no objective morality—and I think I already mentioned this—it actually points to the fact that there is objective morality. Not only does it not show there isn’t; no, it also shows that there is. The fact that there are different opinions in the moral domain means there is objective moral truth. Why? Because otherwise, what exactly are we arguing about? Suppose there’s a genre that I—
[Speaker C] —really love and you hate. I’ll think it’s a terrible song and you’ll think it’s a wonderful song.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Do we have an argument? Of course not. We have no argument at all. I’m built in such a way that I really enjoy the song, and you’re built in such a way that you don’t enjoy the song. I like it and you don’t. Do we have an argument? No, I like it and you don’t like it.
[Speaker C] And if, say, my brother and I hear a song and he argues with me that it’s not—okay, then he’s confused.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, right, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Again, we’re not on the descriptive level. We’re on the philosophical level. The fact that there are people who are mistaken doesn’t mean the mistake isn’t a mistake. So I’m asking what is true, not what people do and what people think. Okay? Now when I ask what is true, I’m basically saying this: if people argue, then one of two things is the case: either the argument is illusory because they’re stupid, mistaken, whatever you want to call it—or it really is an argument. A real argument. And then we’ll fight it out and maybe we won’t resolve it either, that’s all fine. But assuming there is an argument, that means there is objective moral truth. Because what that means is that I claim the moral truth is like this, and you claim the moral truth is like that, and therefore we have an argument. Now if there were no such thing as moral truth, it would be like saying I like it and you don’t like it. Exactly. But I’m saying: when you bring me proofs from the existence of arguments, you’re making a serious mistake. Because you are the one who needs to argue that there are no arguments in the moral realm. And the fact that there are arguments on the descriptive plane—that is, descriptively people argue—is simply the result of human error. You need to correct them, not rely on them. Whereas I claim no, the existence of arguments is evidence against you; it’s evidence for me. And therefore I claim they are not necessarily mistaken. Some may be mistaken, but it’s not necessarily a mistake. In other words, the very existence of an argument reflects the fact that both sides claim there is objective moral truth. And I claim that the objective moral truth is that elderly people should be placed in nursing homes, and the Eskimo claims they should be taken out into the snow to freeze to death. Okay? So do we have an argument or not? Is this like I like the song and he doesn’t like the song? No, it’s not the same thing. Why isn’t it the same thing? Again, taste is just taste. Okay? The point is that I am claiming that you are not okay when you take the elderly person out into the snow. I’m not just telling you what I happen to do. That’s uninteresting, that’s just information. I’m telling you that among us, we put them in a nursing home; we don’t leave them out in the snow to freeze. Very interesting; among us, we take them out to freeze. Very interesting; let’s part as friends. That’s not how it behaves. It behaves like an argument, meaning I think you’re cruel, you’re wrong, you’re doing something immoral. Maybe I’m the one who’s wrong; that’s not important right now, it doesn’t matter who’s right. The very fact that I am arguing means that in my view there is objective truth, and in my view this is the objective truth. Now you argue with me too. That means two things: in your view too there is objective truth, and on that point we both agree—that there is objective moral truth. And in addition, you also think the objective truth is what you are saying, and that’s our disagreement. But on one thing we do agree: that there is objective moral truth; we just disagree about what it is. And so the existence of the dispute is a descriptive fact. But on the essential plane, not only does it fail to prove moral subjectivity, it actually proves moral objectivity. Because otherwise there would be no point in arguing.
[Speaker B] The existence of the argument, not just the existence of different opinions.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, the existence of different opinions could just be the result of error. Fine? I’m saying: someone who brings proof from the existence of different opinions is just mistaken. You can tell me that different opinions are compatible with moral subjectivity. So then why do people argue? Because they got confused, because they’re mistaken. Fine. But then don’t bring me proof from the fact that they argue. Then what you’re bringing me proof from is the fact that people are confused. In other words, you can say they’re confused as a defense, after I attack you—you can say their arguing is just because they’re confused. But the whole discussion is usually run in reverse: you bring me proof against me from the fact that people argue. No—you yourself say they’re just confused in arguing, so that’s what you bring me proof from? In other words, you understand: it may be that the whole thing is nonsense and everybody is an idiot, fine. But the existence of arguments is not evidence against moral objectivity. Certainly not.
[Speaker C] Do you know Douglas Murray? Yes. So I read his book about the strange death of Europe, and he really talks there about how Europeans became stupid and brought into themselves cultures that are completely warped, and accepted them as equal, because it’s a different culture—what’s the problem?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] One of the serious problems is that people don’t make the distinction we just talked about. That is the root of the destruction. Because what happens is this: people who are willing to recognize the existence of different opinions, who want to acknowledge that different opinions exist and to contain the possibility of different opinions, find themselves compelled to say that all the different opinions are also correct. Now that jump is, first, unnecessary; second, harmful; and third, not required. In other words, it doesn’t follow. I can be tolerant of other views without acknowledging that you are right. Quite the opposite: if I acknowledge that you are right, then I’m not being tolerant of you. To be tolerant of you is only under the assumption that in my opinion you are wrong, and nevertheless I’m willing to contain you and live alongside you and so on—then I’m tolerant. But if I think you are as right as I am, then that isn’t tolerance, that’s pluralism. It simply means there is no right and wrong and everyone should do what he understands, what he thinks, what he wants. And so this is an acute mistake, this mistake. This mistake is what lies at the basis of all the destruction we see around us. People who understand that once there is another culture, then obviously in light of its assumptions, those are the conclusions, and my assumptions are different and therefore my conclusions are different. Up to that point, I completely agree. But from there, the jump that says that if so then everybody is also right because each is consistent with his own assumptions—why? His assumptions are wrong and mine are right. That’s all. Now you can say I can’t prove that to him or I won’t succeed in proving it to him, okay—but I still think I’m right and you’re wrong. And therefore, where your positions are harmful or lead to who-knows-what, to problems in my view, yes, I have legitimacy to oppose them, not to accept them. There is a limit to tolerance if tolerance is really tolerance. If it is pluralistic inclusion, then it should have no limit, because everyone is equally right—so in what sense am I allowed to harass someone who holds a different view? Okay. But if I’m tolerant, not pluralist—tolerant means I think you are wrong and I am right, and still I am willing to include you because I uphold the value of tolerance. But not at any price. There are situations in which I will not be willing to do that. And so the lack of boundaries that we see around us, the willingness to accept every single thing and every bit of nonsense and every statement and every stupidity on earth, stems from the confusion between tolerance and pluralism. In other words, they mistakenly identify tolerance with pluralism, and once you are committed to pluralism, there is no limit. Every piece of nonsense that gets accepted is considered legitimate nonsense. Okay, so that’s regarding ethical and moral disagreements. There’s one more comment I want to make. That same claim that says that because there are different opinions in the field of morality, therefore there is no objective moral truth—that claim, what I said until now is that the inference is invalid. Meaning, even assuming there are different moral opinions, it doesn’t mean there is no objective truth on the moral plane. Okay? Now I want to challenge the assumption itself, not just the inference. I don’t think there are different moral opinions. Meaning, I agree that on the margins here and there there are certain questions about which we disagree, but almost all the arguments in the moral domain that I know of are not moral arguments. Moral arguments barely exist, almost not at all. The arguments are about how to apply the agreed moral principles. For example, the Nazis did not think murder was permitted. They did not have a thesis undermining the value of human life. The question was only who counts as human, or alternatively—that’s one way to look at it—alternatively, what do you do with people who threaten me or want to destroy my world. Now it isn’t true that I would want to destroy their world, but that’s how they saw it, so their mistake was not a moral mistake. Their mistake was a mistake in diagnosing the reality within which they acted. And I’m talking about the Nazis, the thing furthest imaginable from accepted moral outlooks. All the more so when you talk, for example, about abortion. Okay, abortion—I think abortion is murder, and someone else, many others, will say, what are you talking about, a woman’s right over her own body, and things like that. Does either of us make light of the prohibition of murder or of the value of human life? Nobody does. The argument is, again, over the question of what a person is—at what point can the fetus be considered a person? So that’s not a moral dispute; it’s an ontological dispute. It’s a metaphysical dispute, call it what you like: what is called a person, from when is this creature called a person. It’s not a moral dispute; it’s a dispute that has moral implications, but it’s not a dispute about moral principles. The moral principles are completely agreed upon. Who argues over the principle that murder is forbidden? Who argues over the principle that stealing is forbidden? Who argues over any such thing on earth? Who argues over the value of equality? Who argues over the value of freedom? The problem arises only when freedom clashes with equality—right versus left, or communism versus capitalism. Then there may indeed be differences on the scale, and many times they aren’t even differences on the scale but differences in assessing reality—what will lead to a better situation. Just differences in how I understand reality and how I evaluate what is likely to happen. And if you think about it, you’ll see that almost every argument on earth reflects complete value agreement. Not only does the argument not show there is no agreement, the argument shows there is agreement. When we argue, we are arguing over the value of human life. If one of us did not accept the value of human life, then what exactly would we be arguing about? After all, we both agree that murder is forbidden. The question is whether this particular thing counts as murder or not. That is our disagreement. If we didn’t agree that murder is forbidden, then these arguments wouldn’t even take place. How do you conduct an argument over whether murder is permitted or forbidden? I have no idea how to conduct such an argument. All these arguments take it for granted that murder is forbidden, and now the question is what counts as murder. Maybe let me bring another example, also pretty current, concerning what are called targeted killings—which is always the term for non-targeted killings. Whenever they say targeted killing, it always means you hit someone you weren’t targeting, so it’s always euphemism, whitewashing, sanitized language. “Golden age” for the elderly, or “targeted killings”—that’s when the killing was really not targeted at all. We already talked about what a complete gentile is—a complete gentile is only a Jew. All these euphemisms. So the same here with targeted killings. What happens in a targeted killing? In a targeted killing, say I see a terrorist sitting in a car, and with him in the car there are two other people, and I fire a missile at the car to eliminate the terrorist. Now I’ve killed two other people in a very non-targeted way. So now the question arises: is it permitted or forbidden to do that? This is a serious argument in our society, a very stormy argument—whether this is legitimate or not. An argument, by the way, that has two respectable sides. There is no simple truth here, it seems to me. Now what is this argument? At first glance it looks like a moral argument, right? There’s a moral question here: is it permitted or forbidden to murder the people who are not involved? Just as an indication—I gave lectures on this and wrote articles about it, so I’ll do it briefly here—one indication is: why is this connected to left and right? And it is connected, right? There’s a very clear correlation: the right is in favor of “kill them all, kill them all,” and the left is basically opposed. Okay? Why? Why is this connected to left and right?
[Speaker C] Because it seems to me the left is more sensitive, so when it hears—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Leftism means sensitivity? You identify leftism with sensitivity? I don’t think so. I really don’t think so.
[Speaker B] Human rights?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t think so either.
[Speaker B] Individual?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Individual—that’s getting warmer. I don’t think it’s greater sensitivity and not more human rights either, and that’s exactly my point: it’s not a moral dispute. The dispute between left and right is not a moral dispute, even though here we have what looks like a moral dispute par excellence: is it permitted to fire a missile at such a car? At first glance, that looks like a moral dispute, and now I’ll show you that it isn’t—it’s not a moral dispute. What do I mean? What lies behind this issue? I’ll do it briefly. What lies behind this dilemma? In Jewish law there are two principles that seem to contradict each other. One principle is the law of a pursuer. If Reuven is chasing Shimon in order to kill him, then I have a commandment—certainly permission, but actually even an obligation—to kill Reuven in order to save Shimon. On the other hand, if someone threatens me with a gun and tells me, kill so-and-so, then I have to let myself be killed and not kill. Right? “Be killed rather than transgress” regarding the prohibition of murder. Why? Because “what makes you think your blood is redder?” Your blood is no redder than his. You cannot kill him in order to save yourself. So why is the law of a pursuer different? In the law of a pursuer, you kill the pursuer in order to save the pursued. What, is the blood of the pursued redder? Because he’s the one who harmed another person. Okay, fine—but you are still killing one person in order to save another. Doesn’t that contradict the “what makes you think your blood is redder” principle?
[Speaker C] Both of their blood is equally red.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So there are various explanations here; it doesn’t matter. The simplest explanation, it seems to me—and this is probably what you meant—is that whoever initiated the situation is the one who has to pay the price to resolve the entanglement. If you are a pursuer, then this isn’t a situation that just happened on its own—you created the situation. Once you created the situation, the responsibility to solve it is on you. So it’s not because your blood is less red than his blood. Rather, you are the one who has to pay the price because you created the situation, and therefore it is preferable to kill you in order to save him. By contrast, in a case where they threaten me and tell me to kill someone else, that other person is just a third party; he didn’t create the situation. Why should he pay with his life in order to save mine? That’s the simplest explanation; there are others. Can a baby be a pursuer? Exactly. So the question comes up: what happens if a minor is a pursuer? This is a dispute among Amoraim, but as a matter of Jewish law we rule that even a minor who is a pursuer has the law of a pursuer applied to him. And I claim it’s the same thing. Meaning, the point is that you created the situation—it’s not a question of guilt, it’s a question of responsibility. In other words, even if you’re not guilty of having created the situation, at the end of the day you are the one who created it. I’m also not guilty of the situation. If you created the situation, then you have to solve it. This isn’t punishment as a result of guilt; it’s assigning responsibility. And my claim is that there is responsibility even for a minor who is a pursuer. Even for a fetus. Even for a fetus. In the end, it created the situation. Right? Even though the Talmud there says, “He is being pursued from Heaven.” “He is being pursued from Heaven” means exactly this: he did not create the situation; Heaven placed him there. And then indeed you are exempt; there is no law of a pursuer, because he is being pursued from Heaven. Understand? But were it not for that, he would be a pursuer. A minor, for example—not a fetus, but a minor—he is a pursuer, because Heaven didn’t do it; he is doing it. True, he has no understanding, he doesn’t grasp what he’s doing, fine, but he did it, and therefore the responsibility is on him—not the guilt. It’s responsibility, not guilt. There’s a difference between responsibility and guilt. Yes, speaking of which, Amir Ohana, I think—during the Carmel fire… he was Minister of Public Security, I think… at the Meron disaster? Ah, at the Meron disaster, okay. We’ve had all kinds of… the Carmel fire, the Meron disaster, the prison break from Megiddo Prison—we’ve had all kinds of events where this question came up: the relationship between guilt and responsibility. I have a good friend, Menachem Finkelstein, who headed the committee on the Megiddo Prison break; he had been the military advocate general. So I spoke with him a lot while he was working on that issue. And really the big question there was how far to stretch the boundaries of responsibility. And he told me something new that I didn’t know: in the State of Israel, they have never imposed responsibility on a person without there also being guilt. Never. The law does not separate guilt from responsibility. There is no such thing as responsibility if they didn’t find some dimension of guilt. Now, exactly how much guilt—that’s another question—but there has to be… there has to be… there has to be some dimension of guilt in order to impose responsibility on you. There is no responsibility without guilt. And I kept telling him that this is wrong. I even brought him the examples of a pursuer and so on, right? Responsibility can be imposed without guilt. Even with no guilt at all. Right? October seventh—what people are saying about Bibi. So he says: no, the army didn’t tell me, the army this, the army that… doesn’t matter, that’s nonsense. But let’s say it were even true. Fine—but the responsibility is still on you. You’re the prime minister. This whole system that failed to function—you were the one… you stood at its head. The fact that people deceived you and so on removes the guilt from you, but it doesn’t remove the responsibility. There’s a difference between guilt and responsibility. Like a minor pursuer. A minor pursuer is not guilty at all—so what? Should you not kill him? Should you let him kill everyone in the street? Because what do you want from him—he’s not guilty, he’s a child, he has no understanding. No! He bears responsibility because he created the situation. Okay. Fine, let’s get back to our topic. So what I wanted… let’s return to the parentheses—I still haven’t closed them. Parentheses inside parentheses. I closed the round parentheses and returned to the square brackets. So what I want to say is that the dilemma—whether it is permitted to harm uninvolved people in this missile strike on the car—depends on the question of how you map this situation. And that’s true for almost all dilemmas in questions of saving life. Do you see them as pursuers, or do you see them as a third party? If you see them as pursuers, then you kill them—the law of a pursuer. If you see them as a third party, then this falls under “be killed rather than transgress” regarding murder. You can’t kill someone in order to save yourself. Right? In effect, I am harming them in order to save my civilians or my people whom the terrorist could harm. Who permitted you to kill people who are not threatening you just so that you yourself can be saved? That is exactly “What makes you think your blood is redder?” Right? The argument is really over the question whether they are pursuers or a third party. “Uninvolved”—that’s the term. Right? And the right says: “There are no uninvolved people.” And the left says: “They are uninvolved.” Right? That’s very telegraphic, crude, but that’s basically the argument. Okay. If people say, “There are no uninvolved people in Gaza. All Gazans are involved. There are no innocents in Gaza”—yes, these are phrases we hear all the time. By the way, I completely agree with that statement. Completely agree, even though I disagree with most of the people saying it. But with the statement itself, I agree. I’ll explain why. The argument is not about guilt. If the argument were about guilt, then the left would be right. Because they are not guilty—what do you want from a child traveling in that car, a baby? What influence does he have over what Hamas does? What do you want from him? The argument is about responsibility. And the claim is that if I am facing a collective, then the one pursuing me is the collective. Now, this is not because the collective is guilty. It’s like a minor pursuer. He’s not guilty, but he is the pursuer. Right now he is the one standing there and threatening my life, and in order to save myself I have to kill him. Okay? Therefore I kill him not because he is guilty, but because he is responsible. So the left keeps saying that the uninvolved are not guilty, and the right answers them: no, they are guilty. No—they are not guilty, and nevertheless it is permitted to kill them. Meaning, both the left and the right are mistaken. The right is mistaken in saying they are guilty—they are not. And the left is mistaken in saying it is forbidden to kill them because they are not guilty. It is true that they are not guilty, but it is not true that because of that they may not be killed. It is permitted to kill them because they are responsible; they have the law of a pursuer. The pursuer facing me is a collective pursuer. It is not an individual pursuer; it is not the person holding the weapon. It is the public that holds it; the one holding the weapon performs the acts in its name. Not always by its will, but in its name. Just as if our prime minister decides to go to war—he was elected democratically by all the citizens, including those who oppose him—we are all responsible for what he does, for better and for worse. It doesn’t matter whether you oppose his actions or not. Whether you have influence or don’t have influence—we are responsible. And if someone has to defend himself against actions he takes and as part of that kills our civilians—if he needs to do that, then he is justified. We are all responsible. It doesn’t matter whether I agree with Bibi or don’t agree with Bibi. It really doesn’t matter. And the same applies to the other side. What does this really mean? It means that the argument between the left and the right—even if I don’t attribute it to mistakes, and usually it’s just mistakes, but even if I don’t attribute it to mistakes, just to be charitable—the argument is over the question of how I view the one standing opposite me. Do I see the one opposite me as a collection of private individuals? Then those who are uninvolved are a third party. The pursuer is the one holding the weapon, and the person sitting next to him is a third party, and there is no permission to kill that person in order to save me. What makes you think your blood is redder? But if I see the one opposite me as a collective pursuing me, then the one sitting next to the person holding the weapon is part of the pursuing collective. Now you understand why this is the argument between left and right. Because the left espouses an individualist conception; it says that private individuals are the real entities. Collectives are fictitious, legal definitions, but the collective is not really an existing entity. A collective is not standing opposite me; a person is standing opposite me. The one holding the weapon and threatening me should be killed—he has the law of a pursuer. But the one who is not, he is innocent: what makes you think your blood is redder? What does the right say? The right says no—we are the national right, right? The right sees the struggle as a struggle of nation against nation. “One nation shall be mightier than the other nation.” Okay? So that means that I see opposite me a collective that is pursuing me. And if the collective is pursuing me, then it has the law of a pursuer. It is not guilt—it is responsibility. Where do we find this? We find it with the men of Shechem. Because the men of Shechem, whom Simeon and Levi killed—Maimonides says that it was justified for them to kill them. Why? Because they did not fulfill the commandment of laws, and when a Noahide does not fulfill one of his commandments he is liable to death. Nachmanides challenges him—Nachmanides on the Torah there, in that passage—he asks: what do you want from them? What is the individual citizen in Shechem supposed to do? This isn’t even a democratic regime; though what can you do, democracy is gone. But it was a non-democratic regime—if he chirped one word, they’d cut off his head. There is nothing he can do. What do you want him to do? So the claim—the Maharal talks about this there—he derives from it the whole concept of war, that war is essentially a confrontation with a collective, not with individuals. And when there are no laws in Shechem, the ones responsible for that are not just Shechem and Hamor the king and his son. The ones responsible are the whole public. True, each individual separately has no influence. Fine. But all of you together constitute the city of Shechem, and in the city of Shechem there were no laws. So you need to bear the consequences; you constitute a threat to the surroundings.
[Speaker C] Defense? Collective punishment?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. No—it’s collective prevention, not collective punishment. Yes. I’ll get to that in a moment. It’s like—think, for example, about Stalin. I once read a biography of Stalin, and it was fascinating, and what sat in my mind the whole time while reading was: how does one person hold an empire of I don’t know how many—150 million inhabitants of the Soviet Union, right?—all of them by the throat. All of them want to kill him, all 150 million, with the second most powerful army in the world, and one man holds this whole system by the throat and dies peacefully in his bed in 1954. There are some conspiracy theories, but apparently that’s not true—he died in his bed. They didn’t succeed. How does that happen? It happens because he built some mechanism there in which two people couldn’t join together and create a conspiracy, because who knows whether the other isn’t an informer. So he isolated each individual separately, and there was no way to deal with him. Meaning, there was nobody who could successfully begin such a move against him. And in that way, by means of governmental power, you manage to hold by the throat the strongest army in the world, with 150 million people, in the face of one man. It’s an unbelievable phenomenon. Okay, now I ask: if the Soviet Union goes to war against me, is it permitted for me to kill the civilians there, when everything they do is only because Stalin is holding them by the throat? They want to kill him even more than I do. The answer is yes, because in the end the one threatening me is the people—not the Russian people, but the Soviet Union as a whole, the Soviet people, the Soviet public. Okay, it is threatening me; it is a collective pursuing me. Now true, basically only one person wants this and all the rest are his lackeys. Okay, but practically speaking they are the ones responsible, because they are the ones threatening me. They are not guilty, but they are responsible. Okay, so what does this really mean? That this argument between left and right regarding targeted killings is not at all a moral argument; it is a metaphysical argument. It is an argument about how I relate to a collective. Do the individuals exist and the collective is just a collection of individuals, or does the collective itself also have existence? This is a metaphysical argument; it is not connected to morality. Both the left and the right agree that there is a law of a pursuer—that if someone is pursuing me, it is permitted to kill him. Both the left and the right agree that if someone is not threatening me, then it is forbidden to kill him for no reason—everyone agrees. So where is the argument? The argument is over whether he is threatening me or not. And where does that come from? Is what is threatening me a collective, in which case he is included in it, or is what is threatening me the individual holding the weapon, in which case he is not included in it? So the argument is over a metaphysical question, not a moral one. It has moral implications, and that is why it really is an argument between left and right. But in the argument between left and right, there is no moral disagreement between left and right. Everyone agrees on all the moral principles. The whole question is how to apply them, because you have an argument over which entities are walking around on this planet. Are collectives entities too, or are only private individuals entities? That is a metaphysical argument; it is not an ethical or moral argument. Okay, just to complete the picture. So is it permitted just to kill a Gazan baby? Why not? He has the law of a pursuer—a collective pursuer, but a pursuer.
[Speaker C] A random baby, in a diaper.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He has the law of a pursuer, no? Why? Because he has the law of a pursuer. The one threatening me is the collective as a whole, right? So the whole collective has the law of a pursuer. So why is it forbidden just to kill a baby? So I claim—ah, so then you would say not because he lacks the law of a pursuer; he does have the law of a pursuer. But even a pursuer may not simply be killed if that is not what saves me. That is the law of “if he can be saved by injuring one of his limbs.” Meaning, if I see a pursuer—Reuven running after Shimon—and I can shoot him in the leg and Shimon will be saved, then I am forbidden to kill Reuven, because I can save him by
[Speaker B] injuring a limb without killing him. Yes. So that basically means that here too—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] here too it is not because they lack the law of a pursuer; they do have the law of a pursuer. But it is not correct to infer from this that therefore I am allowed to spray bullets everywhere and kill everyone in my sights. That is not true, and not because he lacks the law of a pursuer; he does have the law of a pursuer. There are no uninvolved people in Gaza—I agree
[Speaker B] with that statement, and that does not mean that it is permitted to kill everyone, absolutely not.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It is permitted to kill everyone you need to in order to defend yourself, in order to save yourself. Everyone you need. All two million with an atomic bomb—no problem at all, it is permitted to kill all of them. Precisely if it’s from Gaza, if they kidnapped somebody? Ah, here’s a practical difference, and I wrote this in an article on the subject: if there is some Swede there who happens to be there by mistake or something like that, then it really would be forbidden. It would be forbidden to harm him, because he truly does not belong to the pursuing collective, and he has the status of an uninvolved factor, a third party. And you cannot kill him in order to save yourself—what makes you think your blood is redder? That is another implication. And even if the Gazan is using him as a shield, placing him there—even then, apparently, it would be forbidden for you to kill him. There is some room to hesitate about that, because you could say: look, I am shooting at the Gazan, and the fact that he is standing there and not allowing me to shoot—what can I do? Meaning, let him move away. He can’t move away; I’m not guilty either. I’m not shooting at him; I’m shooting at the Gazan. He is standing there, so he will die too. Understand? So you could say that I am not really killing him in order to save myself; I am killing the Gazan. The fact that he is there causes him to be killed as well. Fine—but I’m not guilty in that. What do you want—that because of this I shouldn’t defend myself? Fine, this is not the same thing as threatening me with a gun to my head so that I kill you. Because here I am not killing the one being threatened and then you also die; I am killing you in order to save myself. That is forbidden. Since when is it permitted for me to kill you in order to save myself? But if in order to defend myself against him I shoot him—not someone else—and it’s just that you are also there and I can’t shoot him if you are… because you are there, then I shoot him and what happens happens. There is room for that reasoning, no? Don’t confuse me because
[Speaker C] now I’m really confused between the two pieces of information.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s no difference. According to the reasoning you just heard, there’s no difference. That’s why I said: basically there is a difference, but there is also room for the reasoning that says there is no difference. Because in the final analysis I am not killing—not killing—the Swede. If I needed to kill the Swede in order to save myself, that would be forbidden. But no—I am killing the terrorist who is threatening me. The Swede is standing there, so what do you want? That I should not shoot at the terrorist because the Swede is there? Is the Swede’s blood redder than mine? His blood is also no redder than mine, just as my blood is no redder than his. I have the right to defend myself. Because he is there, should I therefore not defend myself? Why not? There is room for that reasoning. It’s like what Tosafot says in two places, I think: what happens if someone throws me from a roof, and there is someone below, a person below, and I am about to fall on him and crush him to death. Do I have to tilt myself to the side and crash in order to save him? Because I am forbidden to save myself at the cost of another person’s life, to kill him in order to save myself. Tosafot says no. Because just as his blood is no redder than mine, my blood is no redder than his—his blood is also no redder than mine. I do not have to die in order to save him. I am forbidden to kill him in order to save myself. But it does not follow that I have to kill myself so that he will be saved. So if someone threw me onto him—it’s not that I aimed myself at him; someone threw me onto him—and now having to tilt myself aside means killing myself in order to save him. That too I am not required to do. No person’s blood is redder than anyone else’s. The rule is: passive inaction is preferable. Therefore I do not have to tilt myself aside, but neither may I actively shoot to kill. Passive inaction is preferable. Because here there is equal weight on both sides—his life and my life—and therefore whatever happens, happens. I cannot be active in this in either direction. So here too you can say that I want to defend myself against the terrorist, and that Swede is there. Fine? Now, after all, I am allowed to shoot at the terrorist. What do you want—that I refrain from shooting? Refraining from shooting when there is a terrorist there is really an active act; it is not a passive act. You are basically demanding that I not defend myself—that is, that I die in order to save the life of the Swede. Why should I die in order to save the life of the Swede? Okay? So there is room for that reasoning. In any case, fine, this is not our topic, this is just for our purposes. What I am claiming is that arguments that seem to us like moral arguments are in fact not moral arguments. The moral values are agreed upon 99%, maybe 100%, by 100% of the population—100% of the values. Everything is agreed on. There is no argument over anything. Almost none. Maybe there is something, but almost none. The sharpest arguments there are, are always arguments about application. And if you want to talk to me, then I return to the beginning: if you want to talk to me about the proof from descriptive pluralism to substantive pluralism, and you tell me: the fact is there are arguments about morality, a sign that there is no objective morality—then take a look: the truth is that there are no arguments about morality. There aren’t, simply aren’t. And if anything, then from here there is even more proof that there is objective morality. Because the fact is everyone agrees. Fine? The fact that everyone argues—maybe one is right and the others are wrong. But the fact that everyone agrees—if you want to say there is pluralism, you have to go one step further. How is it that everyone agrees despite there being nothing to agree on? The fact that they disagree even though they should have agreed—that is easier than saying that they agree even though they should have disagreed. Because the other moral possibility simply never occurred to anyone. Why wouldn’t it occur to them? What’s the problem? Fine, for our purposes the picture is clear. What I want to claim is that there are very good indications of the existence of objective morality—moral realism, as we discussed earlier. And the arguments conducted about morality, not only are they not evidence against it, they are evidence in favor. They are evidence in favor of the existence of objective morality, both because otherwise there would be nothing to argue about, and because the arguments are not really moral arguments. They are arguments about application, but the moral principles are completely agreed upon. Good. Now we come to our focal point. What I want to claim—up to now I have finished the introduction on morality. Okay? Now I move to morality and faith / belief. Morality and Jewish law I said is next semester. Morality and faith / belief. What does that mean, morality and faith / belief? I want to claim that the existence of morality is proof of the existence of God. That is the claim. Okay? I call this the proof from morality. It appears in Kant. Now what does this actually mean? I needed all these introductions in order to convince you, or try to convince you, that there is objective morality, because without that this whole argument doesn’t even get off the ground. But notice, the conclusion we reached is that someone who says there is no objective morality is really saying there is no morality—not that there is morality but it isn’t objective. What is morality? That I feel I need to do something? That’s not morality. I am built this way so I act this way, you are built differently so you act differently—I have no claim against you, no judgment of you. That is not called another conception of morality. It simply means one thinks there is no morality. Fine? But if there is morality, we are talking about objective morality. Talking about subjective morality is really just equivocation. It means there is no morality. Okay? So the proof from morality starts from the premise that there is morality. And from there it reaches the conclusion that there is God. Okay? That is the proof from morality; that is the framework, the structure. Now how does this work? Here I need to make a small introduction, a methodological introduction. The claim is basically the following. Since there is morality, and valid morality cannot exist unless God is in the background—why? Because without a legislating factor that determined what is good and what is evil, there is no way to make a moral judgment. Right? If the moral judgment comes from me, the sovereign human being—if it comes from me, then it is not morality. In other words, I am always moral because I always behave the way I think. Right? So if we believe that there is moral judgment, that there are moral values and that this is binding, that means there has to be some legislating factor that legislated the moral values, the good and the evil. Because we have a choice whether to be good or evil, but we do not have a choice to determine what is good and what is evil. We do not have that choice. Okay? That is the claim. So what?
[Speaker C] I thought you held that God does not legislate morality.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I do believe
[Speaker C] that He validates it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does “validates it” mean? Fine, that’s what I mean. Legislates it—what do you mean? But that’s the next chapter. We’ll get to it, but we’ll see when. Maybe next time. That’s the Euthyphro dilemma. Yes, we’ll see. But at the moment the claim is basically that the existence of morality is founded on the existence of a factor that legislates it, that gives validity to it—to the rules of morality. Okay? Without that there is no… because morality is always moral realism, it is objective morality. Subjective morality is not morality. And therefore this is very important, because there are always objections of this kind that say, “No, there is subjective morality.” Fine—subjective morality is not morality. I am speaking to someone who talks about there being morality, okay? I’m talking to him. And then I say: “If you think there is morality, then necessarily there is God.” Because if there were no God, there could not be valid morality. Now notice, this argument appears at first glance to be a very problematic argument. This really is Marx’s “opium of the masses.” In other words, this is basically a pragmatist argument. You want there to be morality in the world, so you create God in order for Him to give validity to morality, and—presto—there we have valid morality and everything is wonderful. And you invented an entity just so it would give validity to rules you want to have validity. That is what is called pragmatism. Philosophical pragmatism. Philosophical pragmatism is when someone derives the is from the ought. There is something I want, and then I determine the facts, what exists, the is, so that it will fit what I want. Okay? That is pragmatism in a nutshell. Again, there can be pragmatic approaches that say, “If it fits what I want, then it is probably true,” and therefore I believe it is true. That is not pragmatism. That is a philosophical argument one can accept or reject, but it is not pragmatism. Pragmatism means: because this is what I want, therefore this is what is true. Okay? Yes, if I want to be a millionaire, then I am a millionaire. That is pragmatism, basically. Here it sounds stupid; it’s just as stupid there too, but here it is easier to see. Fine? So that is the concept of pragmatism. Now apparently this is exactly the argument. Basically you have no basis for assuming that morality is valid, right? But in order for it to be valid I know that there has to be a legislating factor, there has to be God, and I very much want there to be valid morality in the world. So let’s create God so that He can give validity to morality, and there—we’ve proved the existence of God. You haven’t proved the existence of God, nothing of the sort. You simply say that there is no morality, and consequently there is also no God. Okay. Now I want to distinguish this argument from a pragmatist argument.
[Speaker B] By “there is no morality,” do you mean there is no good and evil, or there is no obligation to behave according to good and evil?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Either this or that. I’m not getting into the distinction for now; that distinction is important. We’ll get to it in the Euthyphro dilemma. Wait. So what is the difference between this argument and a pragmatist argument? I’ll formulate it this way. The premise—I’ll present it as a philosophical argument, a valid logical argument, okay?—goes like this: there is no valid morality without God. Okay? Meaning, if there is valid morality, there is God. Right? Implication. If there is valid morality, there is God. Or alternatively, let’s formulate it differently: if there is no God, there is no valid morality. Okay? If there is no God, then there is no valid morality. Okay? That’s negation, this notation. Fine? So from this it follows that if there is valid morality, then there is God. That is denying the consequent. You know that? Fine? So if there is valid morality, that means there is God. It doesn’t say either that there is God or that there is valid morality. It says only the if-then. Now, in order to reach the conclusion that there is God, I need to assume one more premise: that there is valid morality. And now the conclusion is that there is God. Fine? In other words, the essential claim here is the implication claim. It does not say there is God and it does not say there is morality. It says only one thing: if there is no God, then there is no valid morality—or alternatively, if there is valid morality, then necessarily there is God. Now decide. You can decide that there is no God, but then there is no valid morality. You can decide that there is valid morality, but then there is God. Those are your two options. There is also a third option: that there is God and there is no valid morality. That can also be. But there cannot be valid morality without God. That cannot be. Okay? That is basically the claim. Now what? Now, when I make this hypothetical claim, this if-then claim, that has nothing to do with pragmatism, right? That is entirely legitimate. Okay? Now what do they tell me? Look, you are a pragmatist at the moment where you create God in order to generate valid morality. But that is not true. The direction of the argument is the opposite. The direction of the argument is not if Q then P, I assume P and therefore Q. No. I assume Q and therefore P. I assume that there is valid morality and therefore there is God. What does that mean? What are my two premises in the argument? My premises in the argument are these two: that if there is valid morality there is God—one premise, which is hypothetical, an if-then. The second premise is an absolute premise, not hypothetical: that there is valid morality. As a premise. Conclusion: there is God. Okay? Now you can say to me: how do you know that there is valid morality? Right? Maybe there is no valid morality, and then you don’t have to reach the conclusion that there is God. True—that is exactly the question. But that is a question that applies to every logical argument. Every logical argument is based on premises, and you can always ask about the premises: where did you get them from, who told you, after all premises are just premises. Therefore this is not unusual in any way. Okay? It is simply a valid logical argument with two premises. If you accept them, fine, and if not, that’s also fine. All I have shown here is one thing: if you accept this premise, then there is God. The only way you can argue with this is to say that there is no valid morality. Fine, then I have nothing to say to you. But you have to decide honestly whether you really think there is no valid morality. Now, someone can come and tell me: look, I think there is valid morality, but that’s an illusion; it is ingrained in me—education, I don’t know exactly, it was implanted in me somehow. Fine. Then you are basically saying there is no morality, there is only such an illusion—but basically you are saying there isn’t any. Then I ask you: be honest, leave the argument with me aside. What do you really think? Do you really not stand behind morality? Do you really have no claim against someone who behaves immorally? If that is really the case, then everything is fine. Then you have illusions, fine, we all do. I have an urge to speak slander; that doesn’t mean it is permitted to speak slander. Okay? We have urges that do not go in the direction that even we ourselves think we ought to go. That’s fine. But answer me honestly: is it really just an urge, or do you really think there is valid morality? Therefore the meaning of the proof from morality is basically this: only if you assume there is valid morality, the conclusion is that there is God. And therefore it remains open—you can say there is no valid morality, and then you will not need to admit that there is God. But by that you may get out of the argument with me in one piece; still, I say: leave that aside, stand in front of the mirror and ask yourself where you stand. What do you think? Forget what you tell me. Do you really think there is no valid morality? Because if there is, know that it cannot exist without God legislating it. Now since intuitively it is clear to me that there is valid morality—okay? Intuitively. So I have two options: either to say that this intuition is an illusion, or to say that there is God. And why assume that the intuition is an illusion? I prefer to adopt the explanation that leaves my intuition intact. Fine? Therefore this is no different from any other logical argument. There is nothing pragmatist here.
[Speaker B] Okay? Can there be weight to implications stemming from the intuition regarding whether the… meaning, if we have an intuition about something and I assume it is true, but then I see that it entails many things that cannot be?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You can always give up the intuition. Yes. Okay. Yes, of course. No—intuition is not an absolute thing. I am only saying that you have to decide: do you accept the intuition or not. If not, fine, then not. And if yes, then know that you are basically a covert believer. A logical argument in general—when I prove to you that there is God by means of a logical argument, that never actually converts the outlook of the atheist into that of a believer. Okay? It only shows a person that he was never really an atheist. He was a covert believer, or an implicit believer, right? One that even he himself was not aware of. And therefore I say to him: listen, what does your intuition say? Is there valid morality or not? Human beings usually think there is, right? Meaning, when they see someone behaving immorally they condemn him, they think he should be dealt with, that something is wrong with him, and so forth. And then I say to him: wait a second, then remember—if you really think there is valid morality, then you are basically an implicit believer. You basically believe in God. Because if there were no God, there would be no valid morality. So what have I done here? I have revealed to him that he has in fact always been a believer; he just wasn’t aware of it. Because the fact is he believed in valid morality, and valid morality reflects belief in God. The fact that he was unaware of it is perfectly fine, but he was a covert believer. In other words, a logical argument of this kind basically shows you that you have always known the conclusion. Okay? It will not force… if someone truly does not believe in God, then this argument will merely push him in the direction of giving up the premise that there is valid morality. He will simply understand that this was where his illusion lay. He had an illusion that there is valid morality; now he understands that without God it cannot be, and since there is no God—that is his premise—then apparently the valid morality that he feels is an illusion. I don’t really think there is valid morality. Fine?
[Speaker C] It’s not just God in some vague sense; it’s really, if you can say, a specific kind.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Specific to a certain extent. He demands something of us. That’s already half theism; it’s not just deism. Yes, right.
[Speaker B] And how is this different from any argument of… I mean, if there are moral facts… well… how is this different, for example, from the watchmaker argument—the argument from morality?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because “facts”… in the watchmaker argument, that’s an argument from complexity. Here this is an argument from the validity of morality.
[Speaker B] Maybe it’s another argument of the sort that if something exists then someone…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A cosmological argument.
[Speaker B] Right. Meaning, if moral facts exist, then probably…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but that’s no different from saying that a table exists. So what do moral facts add for you? That’s why I say the question is not whether moral facts exist, but whether they have validity. And that relates to the question you asked earlier, which I said we might get to next time or sometime. Meaning, because I really do think that moral facts are not the handiwork of the Holy One, blessed be He; only the validity that obligates us is His handiwork. In any case, what I basically want to say is that… this argument really corners the moral atheist and basically forces him to choose: either you’re an immoral atheist, or you’re moral and not an atheist. You can’t remain both an atheist and moral. Moral in the sense of thinking that there is valid morality, yes? Philosophically moral, not behaviorally. Okay? That’s basically the claim. Both options are open to him, so he can always say, okay, you’re right, there is no valid morality, it’s all an illusion. By the way, countless arguments I’ve had ended that way. The atheists suddenly discovered that they don’t believe in valid morality—if that’s the only way for them to stick with there being no God. So they explain: no, it’s an illusion, it’s planted in us somehow, obviously it’s all nonsense. Again, I’d like to see you next time you see something evil being done, whether you’ll treat it as nonsense. But no, that too is ingrained in us; the fact that we can’t stand by in the face of it is also ingrained in us. Someone who explains away every fact you bring against him as an illusion—obviously you’ll never beat him in an argument. It’s like arguments with determinists: everything you say, they explain as an illusion. Yes, I have a column on the website about the illusion party of the determinists, the materialists and the determinists. Everything you bring—our judging someone is an illusion, our thinking we have free choice is an illusion, the fact that we… all kinds of a million things. And this is presented as a scientific, rational view against the bizarre view that invents things. Meaning, they say that everything I do is just inventions—meaning, and what he himself does too, not only what I do, is inventions. Well, strange things. In any case, what stands in the background of the… so you understand that basically there is here an additional argument for the existence of God. Of course, like any other argument, this argument depends on your accepting its premises, but that’s true of every argument. Do you accept its premise that there is valid morality? Then you have to accept the conclusion that there is a God. Okay, so it’s not a fault in the argument to say, yes, but why do you assume there is valid morality? About any argument you can ask why you assume its premises. Fine—what matters is whether you accept the premises, not why I assume them. You decide whether you accept the premise. Fine; if not, then not. But if you do accept that premise, that is the conclusion that follows from it. Yes, every logical argument is like that. Now here I want to sharpen a bit more the meaning of the issue. This is basically the… I’ve finished the second part of the course, meaning the connection between morality and faith / belief. This is the argument from morality in favor of the existence of God. You see that after we properly build the concept of morality—meaning that morality is something objective, moral realism, and so on—the move to saying there must be a God in the background is a move of one philosophical step. That’s why I invested most of my effort in the first part, because I know—because many times after I… when I start from the second part, yes, I already have experience, I start from the second part, I say to people: look, after all there is no valid morality without God, therefore if you think there is valid morality, there is a God. Immediately the response comes—what? There is no valid morality, right? It’s all an illusion, there is no valid morality. Therefore the more correct rhetorical way to deal with this issue is first of all to reach a shared conclusion that there is valid morality—leave God aside. The question is whether there is valid morality or not. There you’ll usually get full agreement. And then suddenly, when you pull the rabbit out of the hat—wait, but if there is valid morality then there must be a God—then suddenly you see people making an about-face. No, no, no, we retract; actually morality—there is no valid morality, it’s all illusions. Because that’s the only way to escape the issue. If you start directly with the connection between morality and God, then people will immediately tell you there is no valid morality—meaning, it’s not… Okay, so basically what I said here implicitly is that there is no moral atheist. There cannot be a moral atheist. Now that’s a very infuriating statement for many people. Yes, “If there is no God—kill me on the spot.” Moralists always bring that verse. So I want to clarify this point, because that statement is not only infuriating, it’s also not true. I did not say there is no atheist who behaves morally; of course there is. Maybe no fewer than the religious people—it has nothing to do with that. I claim that if he behaves morally, excuse me, he is inconsistent. Since there is no—there cannot be valid morality in the world of an atheist. At most he can tell me that this is what he enjoys. But we discussed this; that’s why I gave all the introductions about morality. Moral behavior is behavior because of obligation to the moral command, Kant’s categorical imperative. Not because I feel like it, because it feels good in my gut to do moral things. That’s not moral behavior; that’s a nice person, a sheep, yes, from Noam Yitzhak. But it’s not moral behavior. Moral behavior is out of obligation to the moral command. Okay, now an atheist who is moral—moral in that sense—has to obey the moral command. But what is the moral command if there is no lawgiver commanding him? So you cannot both be an atheist and hold an ethical position that there is objective morality. You can behave well and be an atheist, but the explanation for those behaviors will not be a moral explanation. It will be an explanation of “that’s what I feel like”; I do it because it feels good to behave this way. You cannot explain: I do it because I must. That’s not… such an explanation cannot be. Okay? Therefore basically my claim is: when I say there is no moral atheist, that is a claim on the philosophical plane, not on the behavioral plane. On the behavioral plane there can be a moral atheist; there are many such people. On the philosophical plane there cannot be an atheist who conducts himself according to principles of valid morality. Okay? That cannot be. This is a philosophical claim, not a behavioral claim. Okay? Again, this is the distinction between the descriptive level and the essential level. On the descriptive level there is a moral atheist. On the essential level there is no moral atheist.
[Speaker C] It seems there are objections to that.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There are many objections to it. I had a debate with Hanoch, David Hanoch, and that was the topic of the debate. He argued—he is a moral realist, so I was also glad to have that debate because there is common ground. I didn’t want a debate with someone who says to me: look, there is no morality, it’s all constructs and illusions and so on. So what do I have to argue with him about? I have nothing to argue with him about. But if someone believes in moral realism, then we can begin discussing whether that requires God in the background. He argued that it does not. He says: once there are binding moral commands, it is an axiom for me that they are binding. I don’t need explanations for why they are binding. No axiom has an explanation, so these axioms don’t have explanations either. So what’s the problem? They are true because it is self-evident that they are true; I am not looking for explanations for why they are true. I don’t look for explanations for my axiom either. Why is it only that if there is a lawgiver there is a law? Because I have some axiom that without a lawgiver there is no validity to a law. And where does that axiom come from? Because it is completely obvious to me, self-evident. Fine, so he says: well, to me it is self-evident that values are binding, ethical facts. Okay? I’m not looking for explanations in terms of a lawgiver who gives them validity. So I told him that I disagree with him, because obviously you have the intuition that it is binding because you believe in God implicitly. Because on the conceptual level—leave intuitions aside—on the conceptual level laws have no validity without a lawgiver. The fact that you intuitively feel that laws have validity is exactly what I’m claiming; that’s why I claim that you believe in God. Because on the conceptual level there cannot be validity to laws. I may have an intuition that the sum of the angles in a triangle is 357. Fine—what is intuition worth? But it’s not true. So what if I have an intuition? I have an argument against your intuition. So the fact that you have an intuition proves nothing. The argument against the intuition says: if there is no God, there is no valid morality. Okay? So you can’t tell me, yes, but my intuition says there is, despite there being no God. Then your intuition… I have an argument against it. And I’ll explain to you why your intuition says there is valid morality even though you don’t believe in God: because you do believe in God implicitly. And in every logical argument, as I said earlier, there is a degree of paternalism. Paternalism is always treated as this accusation, where you tell a person what he thinks. Let him say what he thinks; you shouldn’t determine for him what he thinks. But no—if I show him, from his own statements, if I extract conclusions about what he thinks, then yes, I can show him that this really is what he thinks even though he wasn’t aware of it, as long as I substantiate it. A paternalistic claim is to say what he thinks without substantiating it. To tell every secular Jew that he really believes in his heart of hearts even though he doesn’t understand it—that’s paternalism. But if you show him that he believes, if you have indications—say, the fact that he behaves morally—that’s not paternalism, that’s an argument. A logical argument always tries to claim that you are mistaken, right? That’s what a logical argument does. It simply tries to show you that you don’t correctly grasp your own position. But I show it to you; I don’t merely assert it. If I merely assert it, that’s paternalism. If I show it to you, and substantiate it too, that’s not paternalism—I’m arguing with you.
[Speaker C] Let’s say someone like that, who believes in morality and is an atheist—in practice he believes in God. Would you count him for a prayer quorum?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No. Because prayer has no meaning for him, since consciously he does not believe in God, on the conscious level. Deep inside him there is hidden a conception that there is a God. But a person can also, deep inside, know quantum theory, if he learns it—and the fact that he would know it… fine, but meanwhile he doesn’t know it; consciously he doesn’t know it. Or forget quantum theory, take geometry. Someone who knows the axioms also knows all the theorems, because the theorems are in some sense contained within the axioms. So does a sixth-grade child know that the sum of the angles in a triangle is 180 degrees? No, he doesn’t know. Because on the conscious level he doesn’t know, so I wouldn’t include him in the mathematics olympiad even though he knows all of mathematics. Okay? Because he knows it in some very abstract and hypothetical sense. Fine, you need to help him move it from the subconscious to consciousness. And when that is in consciousness, then we can talk. A person’s actions and judgment are according to his consciousness, not according to what goes on in his subconscious. What goes on in his subconscious is not his responsibility; he deserves neither credit nor punishment for it. Meaning, it’s not conscious. A person is judged only on what he does on the conscious plane, what he decides and how he acts on the conscious plane. Therefore when a person prays, he cannot pray to a God he does not believe in on the conscious level, even if theoretically deep inside I can prove to him that he does believe unconsciously. Okay? But he still is not praying, so he cannot be counted for a prayer quorum.
[Speaker B] Right, and in this case even if he were conscious of it, he would still, let’s call it, be an atheist regarding all the other conceptions of how one might understand God. I didn’t understand. He holds that there is some lawgiver of some kind—isn’t that enough for…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not enough. But if he thinks that one can also address Him even apart from Judaism and Torah and Mount Sinai, but if he thinks that one can address Him and that this prayer is directed to Him, then yes, he can be counted for a prayer quorum.
[Speaker B] That’s another step.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct, but without that it certainly can’t work. Okay. Why?
[Speaker C] Because if he believes there is some sort of appeal to an abstract God?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He can join the prayer quorum because in the end he is also praying. So he is the tenth; there are ten people praying here. There are not ten who are fulfilling the commandment of prayer, because in order to fulfill the commandment of prayer he has to be aware that there are commandments, that there are commands, and that they obligate us. But if he knows that it is possible—as with the Patriarchs, the Patriarchs prayed before Mount Sinai, right? There was no command. And they knew there is a God and they addressed Him, so is that prayer not prayer? It is prayer, even though there were no commands in their world and there was no Mount Sinai in their world. He too is praying to a specific God, to that same God who created the world; he just doesn’t think that He was revealed at Sinai and gave commandments. So what? The God he addresses is the same God as mine, the God who created the world; he just doesn’t know that this God also gave the Torah and also wants more from us. Okay, it’s the same one. So therefore the claim basically in the end is that there is moral behavior among atheists, but there is no atheist who is moral in the philosophical sense of the word. Okay? That cannot be. And if you see someone who is both an atheist and moral, then one of the two sides of that equation is not true: either he is not an atheist or he is not moral. On the conceptual level, this is not a question of condemnation or argument or things of that sort. Now I want to sharpen a few more points. One point: when I need God as a basis for the validity of morality, I’m not talking here about the whip that punishes someone who behaves immorally. It’s not that God will punish me, and only if there is no God—“kill me on the spot.” You can understand it on that level, that if they don’t believe in God then they won’t behave morally because they are not afraid of punishment. I’m not talking on that level, because I see that there are very many people who behave morally even though they are not afraid of punishment. Atheists are not afraid of punishment, and they still behave morally. So that is not the claim. The claim is that on the philosophical level there is no validity to morality without God, that’s all. It has nothing to do with the behavioral plane in any way. Also, by the way, I’m not even claiming that God is good or that He wants morality; I’m not claiming that either. I’m only claiming that if there is valid morality, then in the background there is some God who also wants morality and obligates us to it. I don’t know whether there is or isn’t; maybe there isn’t, and then there is no valid morality, that’s fine. But there is the statement if not P then not Q. Meaning, if there is valid morality then there is a God, or if there is no God there is no valid morality. Okay? Now you can choose either there is a God and there is morality, or there is no God and there is no morality. Only the “if” is the claim. It could be that God is wicked and evil and doesn’t want morality at all. That means there is a God and there is no valid morality. Fine? That is a possible option. The option that does not exist is that there is no God and there is valid morality. There being a God and there being no valid morality is a possible option. Fine? This implication, like implication in logic, is true; it is false only in one state, when the antecedent is true and the consequent is false. In every other state it is true. And when does that happen if the antecedent is “if there is no valid morality there is no God”? Then there is no valid morality—that is one—and there is a God.
[Speaker B] True in the vacuous sense… what do they call it, right?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, true vacuously means that… yes, when the antecedent is… the conditional is true, although I’m not sure there are examples of it. For example, every fairy may have only two wings, even though there may be no fairies in the world. Yes. Exactly. In any hypothetical case it is basically vacuously true. Okay? So therefore only one state cannot exist. There cannot be a state where there is no God—no God, zero, as it were—and there is valid morality, yes. That cannot be. Everything else can exist. Meaning, there could be a God and there could be no valid morality—that could be. Okay? Therefore you can choose many options, but if you think there is valid morality, then you have only one option. This of course also does not touch the question of whether this is the God of the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh), the Jewish God; that is not relevant at all. There has to be some legislating agent that gives validity to the laws of morality. That’s all. You can say something about this God, though—perhaps that He is intentional, meaning that He has intentions, that He wants something. He’s not just some object. Okay? So it does say a little something about God. It also says that He wants something from us, so that also means—it already comes a little closer to the direction of the religious God, because this is a God who demands things of us, admittedly moral demands, but it is still a God who makes various demands of us. Okay. Now maybe I’ll start the next part. I probably won’t have time to finish it, but I’ll start it and next time I’ll finish. I want to talk a bit about Kant’s categorical imperative, and I saved this for now. Meaning, when I spoke about Kant’s categorical imperative, I spoke only about this—the categorical nature of the imperative, not the content of the imperative. The imperative has to be categorical, categorical in the sense that you commit to it unconditionally and you don’t do it because of interests, but because of obligation to the imperative. Okay? Now I ask: what is the content of the imperative? So Kant says that the content of the imperative is: do whatever you would want to become a universal law, okay? Act in such a way that you would want it to be a universal law—that’s one formulation. Now, the content of the imperative is very interesting, and it will bring us back to this issue. Why? There is a very common mistake in interpreting the categorical imperative. People think that the categorical imperative is basically a teleological command. It is a command that says: behave so as to improve the world, make it better. Yes? Because that’s basically what it says to me. Think whether the world will be better if you act this way; if so, then do it, and if not, then don’t. But that is not correct. The categorical imperative is not a consequentialist command. That is an interpretive mistake.
[Speaker B] It’s a sign and not a cause.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, exactly. It’s a sign and not a cause. Meaning, maybe I’ll bring examples that illustrate this better. Suppose someone asks whether to evade taxes. Okay? Usually—let’s say I ask you whether I want to evade 1,000 shekels in taxes. I have a need right now; I want to buy myself an electric scooter. Fine? So I want to evade 1,000 shekels in taxes. Now you want to convince me that this is not moral. So what would you say to me? What can you say to me?
[Speaker C] Think what would happen if everyone evaded taxes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’ll say: if everyone evaded taxes, the state treasury would be empty. But you agree that if only I evade taxes, it has no consequence whatsoever. Because 1,000 shekels on the scale of the state treasury is a joke. Meaning, not even the tiniest little tip of a fingernail will be harmed by my evading 1,000 shekels. Right, only on the computers in the fifth digit after the decimal there’ll be an 8 instead of a 9, I don’t know exactly, but no one cares. It won’t affect anything. There is no consequentialist significance to my evasion. But what will you say? Yes, but everyone will evade taxes and then there will be consequences. And I’ll say yes, but when I evade taxes, I’m not going to tell anyone that I evade taxes. Am I crazy, to have them throw me in jail? Right? So therefore I evade taxes for myself; it’s not that everyone will be dragged after me. So they’ll say to me yes, but everyone will make that calculation. So everyone will say: I evade only for myself without affecting others, and in practice everyone will evade taxes, okay? So I say to them: but if everyone makes that calculation, then again why shouldn’t I make it? After all, if everyone evades taxes, my 1,000 shekels won’t keep the state treasury afloat. Or in other words, whatever happens, the decisions about my 1,000 shekels will make no difference either way. Even if everyone evades taxes, my 1,000 shekels also won’t change anything. Therefore whichever way you look at it, there is no consequentialist reason that tells me not to evade taxes. Right? On the consequentialist level. So why is tax evasion immoral, if indeed it is? The answer is because of the categorical imperative. What does that mean? If everyone did it, even you agree that would be a bad world. But no—the claim is not that if you do it then everyone will do it on the consequentialist level. Rather, let’s do a hypothetical test—a sign, not a cause. If everyone did it, let’s assume everyone did it, is that a good state or a bad state? No, it is a bad state. Since that’s so, you too should not do it. That marks this act as an immoral act. It is simply a labeling of the act. In order to label the act as moral or immoral, I perform a hypothetical test, a thought experiment. Let’s assume everyone does it: is that a good world or a bad world? If it is a bad world, that means this act is a bad act. Now I will not do it—not because it has bad consequences. It has no bad consequences at all. None; it won’t affect anything. I won’t do it because it is a bad act. That is Kant’s categorical imperative. And now I ask: why on earth shouldn’t I do it? What do I care that it’s bad? If it has no bad consequence at all, then because you put a “bad” label on it, that’s why it’s forbidden to do it? Exactly. Only if you understand that there is here a binding command, which an authoritative lawgiver established. The authentic command of the categorical imperative—the categorical imperative, now I’m using the imperative in the imperative—is the binding command. Now I move to the content of the command. And I claim that the content of the command also strengthens the argument for the existence of God. Because if people tell me: look, there is a built-in, self-evident intuition that one must behave morally, I can maybe accept such a thing when there are consequences. The consequence is bad, and you don’t want to cause bad. But here there are no consequences. Why not do it? Only if you are loyal to the command because the command is binding. Fine? No, there are no consequences at all; I am simply loyal to the command and I need to behave morally. To accept that without the existence of a lawgiver in the background is very strange. Granted, even the consequentialist point, in my view, is simply not morality—it’s consequences. And even if the consequences are bad, so what? Why shouldn’t I do it? The consequences are bad—so what? Why shouldn’t I do it? In my view, there too, without the existence of a lawgiver, it doesn’t help. But I’m saying: even if there maybe I can hear someone who says otherwise, explain to me here, in cases where there is no consequence, explain to me here why to behave this way, if it is not obligation to the command of some authoritative lawgiver.
[Speaker B] דווקא here the intuition is consequentialist. What? The general intuition.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, that’s what I’m saying. If you rely on intuition, I can maybe hear a consequentialist intuition. But in non-consequentialist cases, what intuition is there? Why should you obey this thing? Only if you say: God commanded, and I am obligated to His commands, and therefore I don’t do it—just as I don’t eat pork. I don’t eat pork even though there is nothing immoral about it. I don’t eat it because the Holy One, blessed be He, forbade me to eat it. I don’t do this immoral act because the Holy One, blessed be He, forbade me to do it. It has no consequences, like pork. And therefore I think that the content of the command greatly strengthens this claim that without God there is no valid morality. Because someone who thinks morality is only consequentialist can more easily oppose my argument. In my opinion that too is incorrect, but there it is easier to oppose my argument. Yes, the consequences are bad, I don’t want to cause bad consequences. And I ask them: fine, but what happens in cases where there are no bad consequences? You are not causing bad consequences. Why there do you continue to behave morally, if you do behave morally? Then it is only loyalty to the command. There is no other way out. Therefore it is a stronger claim when I enter into the content of the command. Okay, let’s stop here. “One who has intercourse with an Aramean woman, zealots strike him”—this is a law given to Moses at Sinai. The Talmud in tractate Sanhedrin derives it from the incident of Pinchas son of Elazar. This is a rule of law about which one does not issue instruction. That is, if someone comes to ask the religious court, the religious court does not instruct him to do this. Only if he does it on his own initiative in the heat of the moment, then zealots strike him. There is a fundamental difference here between the prohibition of “You shall not intermarry with them,” which is a regular negative commandment for which a religious court punishes, and this act, which is a public desecration of God’s name and a severe injury to the holiness of Israel. Therefore this is not connected to the laws of war, but rather is a special law of zealotry for the honor of
[Speaker C] God.