Halakhic Thought – 5783 – Lesson 19

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[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, completely. I, for example, think that in philosophy there are almost no real disputes. Why? People think philosophy is a lost field, everyone says whatever they want, you can’t decide anything, nothing has advanced. All philosophy is footnotes to Plato, right, as Heidegger said. All philosophy is footnotes to ancient Greek philosophy,

[Speaker B] Not only Plato, Aristotle too.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s Whitehead. Oh, Whitehead or Heidegger, okay, doesn’t matter. In any case, what does that mean? The feeling is that nothing new happens there, there’s nothing there, it’s a stuck field. This one says this and that one says that, and it’s not science where you can make a measurement and see who’s right. I think that’s a big mistake. I thought about this in Sderot too. First of all, defining what philosophy is is a job in itself.

[Speaker B] By the way, I looked for the articles you wrote, both on epistemology and on this, and I didn’t find them.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Send me an email, I’ll give you links if you want.

[Speaker B] Wait, regarding the 150 reasons, I didn’t understand whether those are reasons to classify this creeping thing as impure, or to identify this thing as a creeping thing or not, or the reasons of the Torah itself?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Both, depending on what the argument is about. If Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai are arguing about a particular creeping thing, or if they’re arguing about the law itself of an impure creeping thing, I don’t know. Whatever they’re arguing about, we can presume that neither side is talking nonsense.

[Speaker B] Okay, because if it’s just that there’s some strange creature in front of them and they need to discuss whether it’s a creeping thing or not, then that’s basically a dispute in judgment.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He brings arguments this way, arguments that way. In these aspects it resembles a creeping thing; in terms of its tail it doesn’t resemble a creeping thing. So now you need to decide: is it a creeping thing or not? So he’s right that the tail isn’t like that of a creeping thing, and he’s right that the legs are like those of a creeping thing. Now the question is what determines the status of creeping things: does the tail matter more, or do the legs matter more? So there’ll be an argument about that, and here only one will be right. But on the point that the tail is dissimilar and the legs are similar, both are right.

[Speaker B] Because if it’s a matter of judgment, then really it’s always a matter of judgment.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, judgment, but there are still reasons. That’s philosophy. What I said is that in philosophy there aren’t many real disputes. Usually it’s a dialogue of the deaf. Each one says correct things, and the conclusion looks contradictory, but in truth it’s not contradictory; it’s just saying something else. They say it in the same words but in opposite ways, but they mean something different. And when you look at the reasons each one gives for his position, you see that what comes out of these reasons doesn’t contradict what comes out of those reasons. It’s just that one calls it this and the other doesn’t call it that. They’re simply using imprecise jargon, that’s all. In many philosophical disputes you can see this. For example, take Kripke’s claim—Saul Kripke, yes, one of the great analytic philosophers, a religious Jew by the way. Yes, nobody’s perfect. So Kripke says, for example, that there are analytic a posteriori propositions, contrary to what Kant says. Meaning…

[Speaker B] Wait, a posteriori means after observation?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, after observation. After the fact. Meaning you need observation in order to know. Kant basically divided propositions according to two categorical distinctions. There are a priori and a posteriori propositions. Something I know without observation is a priori; something I know after observation is a posteriori. Okay? And there are synthetic and analytic propositions, which depends on the structure of the proposition. An analytic proposition is one that follows from the definition of the concepts involved in it. For example, “the ball is round.” If you understand what a ball is, you understand that it’s round. From the definition of the concept “ball” you can infer that it is round. Okay? If we ignore American football. If you say “the ball is heavy,” then that’s a synthetic proposition. Why? Because analysis of the concept “ball” doesn’t give you that it is heavy. Right? There’s something here beyond what is contained within the definition of the concepts. So that’s called a synthetic proposition. Now Kant’s claim is…

[Speaker B] Wait, just so I understand: with synthetic or analytic, is the answer whether the property is essential or incidental?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, you can call it that. Whether the property follows from the definition of the concept. Analysis of the concept will give you that property. That’s why it’s called analytic. Okay? Now Kant assumed—not only Kant, those before him assumed this too; he introduced a different innovation, doesn’t matter—he said that there are no analytic a posteriori propositions. Propositions you derive by analysis, but that require observation in order to know them—there’s no such thing. Meaning, suppose you have the proposition “this ball is round.” It’s analytic in the sense that if you analyze the concept “ball” you understand that it is round. But if that’s so, then you don’t need observation. If it’s enough to analyze the concept. It must be that an analytic proposition is a priori; it cannot be a posteriori. Okay? Now Kripke argued that yes, it’s possible. There are analytic a posteriori propositions. For example, a child learns in class that seven plus five equals twelve. Okay? Now it’s clear that after he understands this, after he has learned it, he understands on his own that it has to be so. It’s an analytic proposition. If you understand what plus means, what seven means, what five means, what twelve means, you understand that seven plus five equals twelve. You don’t need observation of anything. From understanding the concepts, you know that seven plus five equals twelve. Okay? But without the teacher in class teaching it to you, you wouldn’t arrive at it. So he says that on the one hand it’s an analytic proposition, but on the other hand a posteriori. Because you need observation or learning by means of the teacher to help you know it. And therefore he argues that Kant wasn’t right. Kant and all his predecessors weren’t right. There are analytic a posteriori propositions. Mathematics is

[Speaker B] a good example? Mathematics as opposed to…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In principle all mathematics is like that, except that Kant claimed mathematics is synthetic a priori. Never mind, I don’t want to get into that now. So that’s supposedly his argument with the philosophers who preceded him. And I claim that obviously there is no dispute here. Kant also understands that you need to learn in class that seven plus five equals twelve. He still called all that a priori; he didn’t call it a posteriori. Why? Because essentially observation isn’t needed. In practice, many times only observation helps me notice it. But essentially observation doesn’t have to occur. I could also have arrived at it by myself. The first person who discovered that law didn’t learn it from his teacher. He taught the teacher. Right? How did he get there? He got there a priori. He analyzed the concepts seven, five, plus, and twelve, and reached that conclusion. Meaning, once it is possible to reach it without observation, it’s called a priori. And what Kripke claims is that true, but many times we need observation. You put together marbles, take five marbles, seven marbles, count how many marbles you have altogether, yes, how many you have in total, and you say twelve. So there, you learned a posteriori that seven plus five equals twelve. With these little beads, with these little calculating devices. Yes. So it helps a person learn to count or add. But the sum is an analytic result. So why do you need an experiment or observation to learn it? The answer is: that’s a psychological need, not a philosophical need. And therefore it’s not a real dispute. For example. Okay. And there are many examples like that. All the disputes in philosophy are like that. Understood.

[Speaker B] So most philosophers are stupid?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Or philosophers—no—they don’t fully understand what the other person is saying before they argue with him.

[Speaker B] Right. Absolutely. Once in my life I met a philosopher, and someone asked him, “Where’s your son?” So he said, “My son is studying philosophy at the university, and to me that is an endless wonder.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] An endless wonder, okay. So I claim there is an end to it, and I also say that pessimism in general regarding philosophy is unjustified pessimism. With philosophy you can definitely reach conclusions. And once you understand that the disputes are really not genuine disputes, then you understand that these two sides have actually taught you two things that are agreed on by both sides. So you’ve learned something entirely new. In a certain sense you even learned the 150 reasons to declare pure and impure. Because the general picture is actually that analytic propositions have an a priori side—in philosophical terms they are a priori—but psychologically they are a posteriori. And here I learned something nice from philosophical analysis. Both sides together, once I understand that they’re right, are two aspects of the truth that I reached through philosophical tools. And therefore I think philosophy is definitely an instrument through which one can discover many truths and insights and so on. It got a bad name through no fault of its own. Yes, exactly. Through much fault of those who engage in philosophy. They bear a lot of the blame for that result, but I think it’s not the fault of philosophy itself. As you know, just as Judaism got a bad name thanks to all kinds of people who represent it or drag its name down. So it’s not a bad name for Judaism, it’s a bad name for Jews. Again, these days will prove it. Okay, in any case, I now want to move one step further, and I want to try to decide this question: who is right, the monist or the pluralist? Now, you can talk philosophy, yes? And raise arguments this way and that way. I spoke about the proof in favor of monism, remember? That regarding “these and those,” even the pluralist himself has to be a monist. So that’s a kind of indirect proof, meaning the opposite leads to a contradiction. You can also talk about the question of what pluralism means. If the rival wife of a daughter is permitted, then you can’t say that at the same time the rival wife of a daughter is forbidden. How can both this and that be true when X and not-X are logical opposites? There’s also the law of non-contradiction; you can’t decide that both X and not-X are true simultaneously. But you can get out of that by saying that in fact there is no such thing as true and false in this context; rather, the Holy One, blessed be He, expects you to behave according to what comes out for you from the Talmudic passages. If what comes out for you is X, that’s okay from His point of view, and if what comes out for you is not-X, that’s also okay from His point of view. But there is no truth toward which you are striving, because if there is such a truth, then there is no such thing as pluralism. Okay? But I want to depart from the accepted practice and try to decide this question not by philosophical arguments, but by examining the sources of Jewish law themselves. And that’s just a very important lesson, I think, when dealing with a topic in the philosophy of Jewish law, which is what we’re doing here in these classes. Very often the sources people bring are from books of thought, from introductions to books of Jewish law, to responsa, these sorts of introductions, where the author always says, “I think there is one truth,” “I think there are many truths,” “many are right,” “one is right.” There are statements of that kind this way and that way. You can look at a book by Avi Sagi called “These and Those”—that’s the name of the book—and there he talks precisely about this issue and brings sources this way and sources that way, and it’s all from books of thought and introductions and the like. And I claim that books of thought and introductions are not a good source from which to learn anything. Because that’s sermonizing. Where can I learn something seriously? If I look at how a person speaks or thinks in the halakhic field. When you say something in the halakhic field, you stand behind it. You’re not just saying nice homiletics. You may be mistaken, never mind, but that really is what you think. Meaning you checked it thoroughly. You know the story about the Pnei Yehoshua. In the introduction he writes that there was an earthquake in his city and he was buried alive under the house, and so was his whole family. And when he was under the house he vowed that if the Holy One, blessed be He, would help him get out, rescue him, he would no longer deal with aggadic literature. And in fact, if you check, the Pnei Yehoshua doesn’t leave a single Rashi or Tosafot that he doesn’t discuss. He’s extremely stubborn; he doesn’t let go of any line in the Talmud. In aggadah—nothing. There is no Pnei Yehoshua on aggadic passages. And why? Because in aggadah people say nice sermon-ideas. It’s not serious. They don’t really relate to it with the same seriousness with which you approach halakhic learning. There you have a difficulty, you need to check it, it doesn’t fit. In aggadah, you have a difficulty—okay, I said a nice insight and stayed alive. So there’s a difficulty, so what? Nobody dies from a difficulty. “One does not challenge a homily,” as they always say.

[Speaker B] Is there a practical difference?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, because you may need to desecrate the Sabbath over it. It’s not something where you say it, came up with a nice little insight, terrific, a nice little insight came out, why give it up? So there’s a difficulty—so what? Nobody dies from a difficulty. But if you need to desecrate the Sabbath over it, then there’s no such thing as having an unresolved difficulty on it. If there’s a difficulty, then check again—it could be that you’re desecrating the Sabbath.

[Speaker B] It could be that if you don’t deal with aggadic material you won’t put in a religious year… I mean, that it gives you a different kind of connection to…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, you can argue with the Pnei Yehoshua, but what the Pnei Yehoshua assumes is that when you deal with aggadic literature you are not aiming at truth, you are aiming at beauty. If you have a beautiful little insight, great, say it at a wedding celebration, everybody will applaud and “may we merit to see children.” Okay? Because that’s basically the goal. I once said, what’s the difference between a homily and pilpul, do you know what the difference is? Again. What’s the difference between a homily and pilpul? What is a real Torah insight? Not a homily and not pilpul. It’s a Torah insight that has good arguments, good evidence, and ends with a correct conclusion. That’s a proper Torah insight, yes? You say something—that’s what it should be when you say it, okay. Pilpul is a case where you have a good argument that ends in a false conclusion. It’s basically a paradox. For example, let me show you that a four-cornered garment needs a mezuzah. If a doorpost, which is exempt from having four corners and exempt from tzitzit, is obligated in a mezuzah, then a four-cornered garment, which is obligated in tzitzit, all the more so should it be obligated in a mezuzah. Right? A fortiori. Now, it’s hard to refute that a fortiori argument. It’s a good argument. But the conclusion is obviously ridiculous, right? It’s not correct. That’s exactly a paradox. A paradox shows you an argument that on its face seems like a good argument. But the conclusion is obviously false—Achilles catches the tortoise in the end. Okay? You do the calculation, it’s not clear where the mistake is, but obviously Achilles catches the tortoise in the end. That’s a paradox. Meaning that you have to look for what’s problematic in the argument, because you know the conclusion is wrong. So pilpul is a nice thing, pilpul is sharpening, it’s a riddle. Pilpul is a riddle.

[Speaker B] So there’s an error.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s an error inside the argument, but it’s hard to find. And the conclusion shows you that there’s some mistake here—look for where. Okay? Therefore it’s a challenge, it’s a riddle. A homily is just nonsense. Pilpul is a correct argument that leads to a false conclusion. A homily is an incorrect argument that leads to a correct conclusion. Right? Say you have one midrash and it contradicts another midrash, and then you make up some worthless answer that doesn’t hold water at all, and in the end, indeed, one must observe commandments and be humble and be righteous. Okay, and may we merit to see children. Everybody enjoys it very much, “well said, well said.” All nonsense. He says nonsense from beginning to end. Not a word connects to another word. But in the end he finished with a true claim: you should be righteous, observe commandments, everything’s fine. It’s just that nothing in the argument shows that. So fine, then everybody says “well said.” Most Torah talks you hear are of that type, by the way. Fine, that’s the purpose of matchmaking. Okay, so most Torah talks you hear are of that type, okay? That’s what I call a homily, as distinct from midrash. Midrash and homily are not the same thing. A homily is nonsense, worthless things. Midrash is something else—it’s another path besides the plain meaning, it’s something else. Okay, how did we get to all this? Ah, yes—books of thought and introductions to books of Jewish law and so on, there everybody is engaged in homiletics. Fine, you say this, you say that, I think this, I think that, and the proofs you bring usually aren’t proofs. In books of thought you say there’s such a midrash. Look at Maharal, yes? Maharal is a book of homilies, with all due respect. Because he brings this rabbinic midrash and that rabbinic midrash, his difficulties are not real difficulties, his answers are not real answers, and in the end he reaches the conclusion he wanted to reach. That, in my view, is Maharal in general. And therefore it’s not—there’s no point dealing with it. All of Maharal? In my view, yes. Again, I’m not expert enough because I hardly deal with it. Everything I saw there was more or less like that. Not all, almost all. If he says correct things, he says them on the basis of things that are not proofs. He has very correct things in chapter 15 of Netiv HaTorah. Chapter 15, we spoke about it once, I don’t remember anymore, where a person… Ah, autonomy? Yes, the boundaries of autonomy, yes. Exactly, that a person needs to decide Jewish law for himself and not rely on precedents or codes of rulings and so on. He says very correct things there, but the proofs he brings there are worthless, obviously. With one midrash like this and another midrash like that, you could explain them in a thousand other ways. What midrash does he bring there? In any case, so he says—look, for example, I’ll give you an example. In the responsa of Maharshal, Yam Shel Shlomo—yes, Maharshal has responsa. And in the introduction to that responsa collection, and also in Yam Shel Shlomo itself in several places, he says: “I will disagree with Tannaim and Amoraim on the basis of proofs. If I have a proof against a Tanna or against an Amora, I disagree with him.” That’s what he writes. I was baffled, okay? And whoever knows—by the way, Maharal’s Netiv HaTorah is the same battle. Both of them are fighting against the Shulchan Arukh. Yam Shel Shlomo against the Rema, and Maharal against the Rema and against the Shulchan Arukh.

[Speaker B] In the introduction there, by Maharshal,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, so he writes this in several places, and you get the impression, you say: wow, this is unusual. The man will bring Amoraim, Tannaim, bring proofs against them—think how far-reaching that is. We learn a Talmudic topic and there’s a dispute of Tannaim and a dispute of Amoraim, and now we find some passage in the Talmud that contradicts one of the Tannaim—what do we say? We look for a resolution, right? Since that can’t be; there’s a difficulty there, so we’ll have an answer. Maharshal won’t look for an answer. Ah, there’s a difficulty? Then apparently that isn’t the law, I reject him from the law because there’s a difficulty against him, that’s it. Our whole learning assumes the opposite. That you never decide a dispute among Tannaim or a dispute among Amoraim on the basis of reasoning. On the contrary, you set up each of them in a way that you understand his reasoning and also reconcile him with all the sources. In the end, I don’t know, Jewish law is decided by Maimonides, Rif, I don’t know who, Shulchan Arukh. But you don’t decide Jewish law in disputes among Tannaim or Amoraim by proofs. Maharshal says yes, even in disputes among Tannaim and Amoraim, not to mention medieval authorities (Rishonim). Okay? Now when you look—what does he mean by proofs? Proofs in reasoning, or proofs from various sources, doesn’t matter. I have a proof from a Tanna against an Amora, for example.

[Speaker B] A Tanna says A, and I know factually B?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the Tanna says A and the Amora says B, so I reject the words of the Amora because there’s a Tanna against him. But the Talmud didn’t challenge him from Tanna A. The Talmud left that opinion of the Amora as a legitimate opinion. Nobody in the world would say, ah, there’s a Tanna against him, therefore the law cannot follow him. You would try to think why the Talmud didn’t challenge him from the Tanna, and you’d try to find an explanation. But Maharshal says no, no—if I have a proof against him, then the law does not follow him, finished.

[Speaker B] Okay? So in that case, what place is there to rule like an Amora against a Tanna as a matter of proof? I’m just trying to understand what “proof” means.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because the Amora said what he said, and our assumption is that he probably knew everything the Tannaim say and still said it. If we don’t understand, then we have a difficulty. But nobody says, ah, there’s a Tanna here—if he had known, he never would have said that; he’s mistaken because there’s a Tanna against him. Nobody says such a thing. Maharshal does. Now look, not to mention medieval authorities—medieval authorities are obvious, he’s not interested in them at all. Now look in Maharshal’s responsa: responsa like any other responsa. Pilpul, medieval authorities, later authorities, he discusses this and that, resolves this, resolves that, like any other responsa—you’ll find almost nothing unusual there. Nothing. Precisely in his commentaries on the Talmud, those commentaries are legal rulings, Yam Shel Shlomo, but there he says things that are more far-reaching than in the responsa. Because that’s commentary on the Talmud, whereas in responsa it’s practical halakhic ruling. In commentary on the Talmud he interprets this way, he interprets another way, but in legal ruling he is like any other responsa writer. What does that mean? That in the introduction he had a goal, he had an agenda. He had a purpose: he wanted to come out against the precedent-based approach of the Shulchan Arukh and the Rema. He wants to say, what do you mean? A person needs to rule for himself, the value of autonomy. So therefore he wrote a Torah thought, a homily in favor of autonomy. But when he works halakhically, when he enters the halakhic field, he does it like any other decisor. Meaning, you see that he does not honestly and truly grasp Jewish law that way. It’s some kind of intellectual direction-setting, but in practice in Jewish law he conducts himself like all the other decisors. So therefore I think it’s very dangerous to draw conclusions from things written in books of thought or in introductions to books of Jewish law or things like that. Look at how Jewish law itself works; from that you’ll learn more. Not always possible. Many times questions—say our question: is there one halakhic truth? Monism, pluralism, tolerance. Is Jewish law like this or like that? How can you decide such a thing? “These and those are the words of the living God” is an aggadic passage. How do you interpret it? This one interpreted it this way, that one that way. How do you decide who is right? You can search in books of thought, and of course you can ask yourself: and how did they know? They also told stories in books. They searched in books of thought. How did those who wrote the books of thought know? You take what they wrote—and when they wrote it, how did they arrive at their conclusions? Okay. So I say I prefer, if I can, to try to settle it from a halakhic source if I succeed. Many times on questions like these I won’t succeed in finding a halakhic proof this way or that way. The question is whether in this case I can, and my answer is yes—and in my view it’s worth more than a hundred intellectual sources.

[Speaker B] Wait, if you rely in some sense on the sources that preceded us, when will we be able to decide? Because maybe they too…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but if there’s a Talmudic passage, for example, on the Talmud we do rely. The question of medieval and later authorities—fine, there’s room to discuss that—but on the Talmud we do rely. But yes—

[Speaker B] It’s a kind of…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Say now I bring you a proof from the Talmud.

[Speaker B] The one who wrote the Talmud—the debate whether the Bible is a divine book, let’s say yes—so when he brings from the Bible he also has to rely on something. The Tanna can’t just pull it out of thin air.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I didn’t understand—rely? Okay, now we already have the Talmud. Now I’m saying that if I manage to prove from the Talmud that Jewish law is pluralistic, that’s much better than if I bring a hundred sources from books of thought, because I’ll show that the Tanna rules that way in Jewish law, if I can succeed. Okay? Now the question is how I approach a question like that. I now want to try to check whether I can decide this from examination of a halakhic passage—not stories someone tells me, “I’m a pluralist,” “I’m a monist,” “I’m tolerant,” I don’t know what. I want to see what you actually do, not what stories you tell me in your homilies in introductions. What do you do when you issue a halakhic ruling? Okay? Now I want to see how this thing works. So first of all, as I said one of the previous times, we see among decisors that there is a lot of fear of ruling. They’re afraid maybe I’m mistaken, I don’t want to put my head between the mountains—all those expressions. That clearly isn’t pluralism. If there is pluralism, then you can’t be mistaken; everyone is right. Once you speak about the possibility of error, it’s clear there is truth and there is error, right? And then you are basically a monist. But leave that aside; that’s still not really halakhic discourse proper. Let’s try to think of a halakhic topic. Let’s try to formulate a halakhic question that will produce a practical difference from this inquiry: whether I am a monist, a pluralist, and so on. Now I want a practical difference between three conceptions. One conception is pluralism, the second is intolerant monism, and the third is tolerant monism. Okay? Clear? Pluralism is a multiplicity of truths. Intolerant monism is one truth, and someone who holds that truth does not relate tolerantly to someone who does not hold the truth, someone he thinks is in falsehood or error. And tolerant monism is monism, meaning I’m right and you’re wrong, but I relate to you tolerantly. Those are the three conceptions. Now I want litmus paper. A paper that I dip into Jewish law: if it turns red, it’s tolerant monism; if it turns green, it’s intolerant monism; if it turns blue, it’s pluralism. An empirical experiment, yes? I want to be a scientist of the science of Jewish law. Okay? I want to check: do I respect erroneous positions or not? Do I try to coerce you or not? Do I recognize your autonomy to be mistaken or not recognize it?

[Speaker B] But how is that connected in…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Those are three conceptions—what do you mean, how is it connected?

[Speaker B] Isn’t that after the fact, though?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, nothing is after the fact; ideally, from the outset. If you think this way and I think that way, and I’m sure you’re mistaken—will I coerce you or won’t I? Do I respect your autonomy to make decisions even though you’re mistaken? Or not—if you’re mistaken, then I’ll coerce you as much as I can.

[Speaker B] But tolerance is essential to the philosophical conception itself? Aren’t these two different things?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] These are three conceptions. There is monism and pluralism. Within monism there are two conceptions: tolerant monism and intolerant monism.

[Speaker B] Yes, but monism or pluralism is basically a worldview.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. And tolerance—I spoke about this in the previous class—no, that belongs to values. Monism and pluralism, I spoke about in the previous class. Monism and pluralism are a philosophical conception. Is there one truth or many truths? It has nothing to do with morality or values. It’s a philosophical question. Okay? Tolerant and intolerant monism belong to values. Do you accept the value of tolerance or the value of the other person’s autonomy, or do you not accept it? Right? That’s why I’m building a complex map. The map consists of three conceptions. Pluralism is a philosophical conception, or philosophical monism, which divides into two kinds of values that get layered onto philosophical monism. Why does tolerance matter to our discussion? I want to know whether Jewish law is tolerant or intolerant, beyond the question whether it is monistic. I simply want to know. It doesn’t have to be connected. You could settle each question separately: is it pluralistic or monistic, and is it tolerant or intolerant? But in general I want to know both questions. Okay? Fine. Now I’ll show you that there is an experiment that can settle this question. For example, let’s think of a case where a person—I have a dispute with Reuven. Okay? I think it is permitted to eat this thing, and he thinks it is forbidden to eat this thing. That is a halakhic dispute. Okay, am I allowed to cause him to stumble by eating that thing? That’s the question I’m asking. A halakhic question, right?

[Speaker B] According to you it’s permitted and according to him it’s forbidden.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] According to him it’s forbidden and according to me it’s permitted. Or it could also go in the opposite direction, but…

[Speaker B] Okay, let’s now do the calculation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Let’s now do the calculation. In principle I’ll begin first with pluralism versus monism, before tolerance. Leave tolerance aside for the moment. Pluralism versus monism. If I am a pluralist, am I allowed to cause him to stumble, or am I forbidden? Forbidden. Here pluralism is the stricter position. We always think pluralism is lenient. Not true. In this case pluralism is stricter. If I’m a monist, and I think I’m right and he’s wrong, then why should I care about causing him to stumble? He’s just mistaken. It’s obviously permitted to eat this piece. I didn’t cause him to stumble in anything. He’s mistaken—why should I care? So it’s not called causing a prohibition. I can give it to him to eat if I’m a monist. If I’m a monist, I think it’s permitted, and the fact that he thinks it’s forbidden means he’s mistaken, so why should I care? I didn’t cause him to stumble in a prohibition, I caused him to stumble in something permitted. So if I’m a monist, I’m allowed to cause him to stumble in this; it’s not causing him to stumble. But if I’m a pluralist, then I’m basically saying everyone has his own truth.

[Speaker B] So according to his view it’s forbidden, and I’m forbidden to cause

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] him to stumble in something that according to his view is forbidden. I’m forbidden—what do you mean? I’m causing him to stumble in a prohibition. No, there is no prohibition, because really it isn’t forbidden. No, it is forbidden because I’m a pluralist. Again, I’m not a monist. The fact that I think it’s permitted is only my own opinion. He thinks it’s forbidden, there is no single truth here. Rather, each one has to behave according to what he thinks. So he has to behave according to what he thinks, right? So if he eats this piece, he is in fact transgressing a prohibition. So if I cause him to stumble in this, then I caused him to stumble in a prohibition.

[Speaker B] No, but if we say there’s no truth, then there’s no such thing, it’s not…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s called a prohibition. Again, you can say there is no Jewish law and no Holy One, blessed be He, and nothing has to be done. That is not a pluralistic conception in Jewish law. A pluralistic conception of Jewish law says there is no halakhic truth, but there is halakhic prohibition. You need to behave as you think, and I need to behave as I think. And the Holy One, blessed be He, will judge each of us according to his own approach. So your prohibitions are determined by what you think, and my prohibitions are determined by what I think. Now if I feed you a piece of meat that according to your view is forbidden, then you in fact committed a prohibition. Because you are obligated to behave as you think. And I caused you to stumble in that prohibition; I violated “do not place a stumbling block.” That is causing someone to stumble.

[Speaker B] Right, so I caused him to stumble.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but you…

[Speaker B] But I didn’t do anything.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why should I care what

[Speaker B] you did?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I did. No, I caused you to stumble in a prohibition; every prohibition is like that.

[Speaker B] Fine, according to your view you’re right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what? So what if according to my view I’m right? But according to his view he’s right.

[Speaker E] So I…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] When I cause you to stumble in a prohibition, then I violated “do not place a stumbling block.” The question whether it’s a prohibition or not is dictated by you, because you ate the piece of meat.

[Speaker E] No, but according to my view I’m not

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] blind. According to my view you are completely blind.

[Speaker E] No, because it’s not causing someone to stumble.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean it’s not causing someone to stumble? That is exactly what is called causing someone to stumble. Again, that is what’s called causing someone to stumble. Jewish law demands of each person that he behave as he thinks. That is the pluralist’s assumption. Now Jewish law demands of you not to eat this piece of meat if you think it is forbidden, regardless of what I think. That is what Jewish law demands of you. So if I now cause you to stumble in that, I caused you to stumble in a prohibition; I violated “do not place a stumbling block.” So if I am a pluralist, then it is forbidden for me. And if I am a monist, then it is permitted for me, right? That’s the analysis. Now… if I am

[Speaker B] a pluralist, then Jewish law forbids me to cause you to stumble because according to your view it is forbidden, because everyone has his own truth, so he too is right, and then

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m forbidden to give

[Speaker B] him to eat.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, because according to his view he is committing a prohibition. Okay.

[Speaker B] So according to polar monism, because I can prevent him from that…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You violated “do not place a stumbling block,” yes.

[Speaker B] What happens—pluralism says there’s no radius, meaning that… halakhic pluralism at the Torah level means there is one prohibition?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the opposite. I said pluralism is total pluralism.

[Speaker B] Meaning there’s no radius, meaning that what is permitted for me is permitted for you.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No problem, but his conception is also very broad,

[Speaker B] that you

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] need to feed him what is permitted for him, not what is permitted according to your view. But there he thinks—the thing is forbidden, and you think it is permitted. That’s the datum. Fine? Now I’m asking whether you are allowed to cause him to stumble in a doubt of

[Speaker E] “Do not place a stumbling block before the blind.”

[Speaker B] Is monism religious? Okay.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s possible, first of all, but how will you find proof? Okay, pay attention to what I’m looking for. You found an example,

[Speaker B] Hallel with a blessing on Independence Day. A question. Hallel with a blessing—if we take the example of, yes,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But how will you know what’s right? I understand there is a practical difference, but I want to settle it. Where will you find it? Find me a source that says it is permitted to cause someone to stumble regarding Hallel, or forbidden to cause someone to stumble regarding Hallel. I need a source. It’s not enough for me to formulate the practical difference. Because I want to test it empirically now.

[Speaker B] Okay, find it. Dear fellow, go ahead, find it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s a lot of Hallel here, but

[Speaker B] not on this.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, look, friends, let’s move on. I now want to bring you a source. So we formulated the test question, right? We have a prediction. Okay? The prediction—since I am a monist, I have a prediction. My prediction says that if there is a source in the Talmud where Reuven thinks something is permitted, Shimon thinks something is forbidden, and the Talmud says that Reuven is allowed to feed Shimon, then I’m right. Then it’s monism. If the Talmud says he is forbidden to feed Shimon, that’s a refutation. So that’s a scientific thesis, right? It is falsifiable. Okay? Yes, fine, suppose I find a proof in the Talmud with no contradiction and nothing. Okay? And there is a contradiction here. Look, this comes out much more interesting than it seems at first glance. See what a wonderful thing. When I saw this I was literally dancing. Right, there’s also—I’ll bring an earlier source. Ritva. But it starts already in the Talmud. What starts in the Talmud? A lot of things don’t start in the Talmud, but everything has to start from the Talmud. Okay, so now I…

[Speaker B] If this machine works, I need to try to do a free find on it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe it’ll work. Okay, wait. It hasn’t woken up yet. I haven’t woken up.

[Speaker B] Why does it take the speaker so long to wake up?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Give me a second, thanks. Come on, this is a sleepy speaker, it sleeps seven hours. Hallel?

[Speaker B] Hallel sleeps more than seven hours, so he’ll have time to wake up. Fine, fine. Every time he sleeps too many hours. Talmud, tractate Sukkah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Itmar, page 10b. Decorations of a sukkah that hang four handbreadths below it, right? If there are decorations that are four handbreadths away from the sekhakh, hanging lower than the sekhakh by four handbreadths, then they are not nullified to the sekhakh. They already have an independent status. Right? Rav Nachman said: it is valid. What does “valid” mean? That one is allowed to sit under these decorations even though they are like invalid sekhakh. Okay. Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna say: it is invalid. Rav Nachman validates it, and Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna invalidate it. Okay. What happened, to everyone’s great surprise? Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna happened to come to the house of the Exilarch. They arrived during Sukkot, of course, at the home of the Exilarch. Rav Nachman was in the house of the Exilarch because he was the chief rabbi, so he lived in the Exilarch’s house. Rav Nachman had them sleep in a sukkah whose decorations hung four handbreadths below it. Notice: this sukkah is valid according to Rav Nachman’s view and invalid according to their view, right? Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna. Okay. They were silent and said nothing to him. They sat there and didn’t say a word. He said to them: Have the rabbis gone back on your teaching? Did you retract your opinion? You’re sitting in a sukkah that according to your own view is invalid. They said to him: We are agents engaged in a commandment, and such people are exempt from the sukkah. In short, they made fun of you. We sat under it, knowing you’d try to trip us up, and we are engaged in a commandment. People engaged in a commandment may eat even outside the sukkah, so in an invalid sukkah too it makes no difference. That’s why we’re sitting here, basically. That’s the story. On this the Ritva asks, Sukkah 10b. Here, look at the Ritva: Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna happened to come to the house of the Exilarch; he lodged them in a sukkah whose decorations hung four handbreadths below it. Meaning: even though Rav Nachman still did not know whether they had retracted their teaching or whether they were agents engaged in a commandment, he lodged them there according to his own reasoning and was not concerned that this would be a self-imposed prohibition for them, and that they were sitting in an invalid sukkah and reciting a blessing there improperly, and this would be like placing a stumbling block before one who can see clearly. What is he saying? He’s saying, very nice, that one played a trick on them, and they played a trick back on him, but how was this permitted for him? After all, when he seated them there, he still didn’t know that they were engaged in a commandment. He also didn’t know that they had retracted their view. Maybe he thought so, but he didn’t know it. How is he allowed to cause them to stumble before he knows that from their perspective too it is permitted? What do we see here? That in principle it is permitted to cause a person to stumble in something that according to him is forbidden but according to me is permitted. Right? Rav Nachman was not concerned that it was a prohibited matter for them—he didn’t worry that this thing counted as forbidden according to their own view. And they were sitting in an invalid sukkah according to their view and reciting a blessing there improperly—a blessing in vain, after all, since they recite a blessing over dwelling in the sukkah—and this is like placing a stumbling block before someone who can see. Very interesting wording. Why does he say, “placing a stumbling block before someone who can see,” rather than “before the blind”? After all, the verse is “do not place a stumbling block before the blind.” Why does he say, placing a stumbling block before someone who can see?

[Speaker D] Because they knew.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Everyone can see. You can see the decorations. They’re not blind. What does he mean to say? He means this: we might have thought the question isn’t difficult. Why? Because the Talmud in Avodah Zarah 15 says that “do not place a stumbling block before the blind” applies in a case of “the two sides of the river,” right? On opposite sides of the river. Suppose there’s a nazirite on one side of the river, and I’m on the other side. I hand the nazirite a cup of wine, and he can’t reach it by himself, because it’s on two sides of the river. I hand him the cup of wine and he drinks it. I have violated “do not place a stumbling block before the blind.” If he can reach the wine himself, there is a dispute among the medieval authorities (Rishonim); perhaps there is a rabbinic prohibition of assisting, but that is called one side of the river. If it is on two sides of the river, where he cannot take it himself, then if I hand it to him I have violated “before the blind.” Okay? Did the nazirite know that it was wine and that he is a nazirite who is forbidden to drink wine? He knew. Obviously he knew. We are not talking about a nazirite who sins inadvertently; we are talking about a nazirite who knows that it is forbidden, and still I violate “before the blind.” That’s what the Ritva means here. The Ritva means to say: don’t answer me that they knew, that they were sharp, not blind. That makes no difference. Even if they know, I am causing them to sin, and that is “before the blind.” I am forbidden to give someone a piece of pork to eat if I know he will eat it, even if he knows it is pork and that he is forbidden to eat pork. I still assisted him, and without me he would not have been able to commit that transgression; that is called “before the blind.”

[Speaker B] There’s another possible way to explain this story. It’s like the story with Rabban Gamliel and Rabbi Yehoshua, where Rabban Gamliel wanted to make it known to Rabbi Yehoshua that he had halakhic authority and that one must compel, and that one must… But it’s not presented that way here.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He asks them, “Did you retract your teaching?” Right, but he asks them, “Did you retract your teaching?” He doesn’t say, “Guys, you should know, here it’s four handbreadths, and you’re going to sit here because I’m the master of the house.” He doesn’t say that. He seats them there, and afterward says, “Wait, notice—what happened, did you retract?” Is it ironic?

[Speaker B] No, it’s not ironic.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does he want to say to them? It’s a game. We know how the Gemara told the story about Rabban Gamliel. Here it doesn’t present it that way. There’s a dispute among sages; he seats them there and then says, “Wait, how are you sitting there—did you retract?” So the Ritva says: how can it be that there is no prohibition of “before the blind” here? How can that be? After all, even if this “blind” person can see, there is still a prohibition of causing someone to stumble. That is why he says, “and this is like placing a stumbling block before someone who can see.” Don’t think that if he can see, then there is no prohibition; even if he can see, there is still a prohibition. The Ritva says as follows. Some say that from here we learn—and that “some say” is the Ra’ah, the Ritva’s teacher—some say that from here we learn that if one feeds another person something that is permitted according to the feeder’s own opinion, there is no issue of “do not place a stumbling block before the blind.” The fact that Rav Nachman allowed himself to seat them in that sukkah shows that there is no prohibition here. I am allowed to cause someone to stumble in something that according to him is forbidden if according to me it is permitted. Even though he knows that for his fellow it is forbidden according to that fellow’s own opinion, and his fellow is competent to issue rulings—that is, if the fellow were an ignoramus, fine, I’m a Torah scholar, I know he’s talking nonsense. But no: here we are talking about Amoraim, people qualified to issue rulings, and I know they hold differently and that they are competent to issue rulings—despite that, it is permitted. For the one doing the feeding is also fit to issue rulings and relies on his own view to feed himself and others according to his opinion. It is permitted. What do we see? In other words, we see—

[Speaker B] —that it’s no worse to offer this to an ignoramus than to offer it to a Torah scholar. No, the opposite: with an ignoramus it’s simpler, because with an—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —ignoramus, the fact that he thinks differently is because he’s an ignoramus. But if he is competent to issue rulings—

[Speaker B] —and he thinks differently, there would have been more reason to say, listen, you disagree with him, but he is competent to issue rulings, he thinks differently. So we are being taught that it is exactly the same thing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, it’s the same, but even there there is no prohibition of causing someone to stumble. In the case of an ignoramus it is obvious there is no prohibition of causing him to stumble; the Gemara says that even with a Torah scholar there is no prohibition of causing him to stumble.

[Speaker B] Okay? It’s not called causing someone to stumble; it’s called issuing a ruling, basically.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In such a case there is no prohibition of causing someone to stumble; it’s not causing him to stumble. What do you mean, issuing a ruling? But they think otherwise. Not a ruling—but you are allowed to cause them to stumble. Okay? In something that according to them is forbidden, but according to me is permitted, you are allowed to do it. There is no prohibition of causing someone to stumble here. Okay? Let’s stop here for a moment. What comes out from this? Monism, right? As we said. This is exactly our litmus paper. So here we have found monism. Okay, so the first question is settled. Is pluralism right or is monism right? Now look at the continuation. The continuation is the second question—whether there is one truth. If I think this is permitted, then I am allowed to cause you to stumble even if you think it is forbidden, because from my point of view that is the truth. Right? And that is what the Ritva says here, and what is learned from Rav Nachman. Okay. The Ritva continues—look further. This Ritva is wonderful; I practically danced when I saw it. “And it seems to me that here specifically it is because the prohibition is recognizable to his fellow, and if he does not agree, let him not eat. But if it is not recognizable to his fellow, then no. And we say there: Heaven forbid that the offspring of Abba bar Abba should feed him something he does not hold to be permitted—in the chapter Kol HaBasar. And therefore my teacher the Ra’ah ruled to me that where the Jewish law was definitively decided not in accordance with his view, then it does not matter—it is forbidden, as Jewish law has been ruled.” What does his teacher, the Ra’ah, say? There is a parallel sugya in Chullin 111. And there the Gemara says the opposite. The Gemara there discusses: fish that were placed in a bowl—Rav said it is forbidden to eat them with kutach, and Shmuel said it is permitted to eat them with kutach. Whether this counts as imparting taste or not, yes—this is “nat bar nat.”

[Speaker B] Wait, specifically—this is about milk, or about eating the fish themselves?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fish with milk. The fish absorbed a meat taste. Now if you eat them with milk, does the milk still absorb taste from the meat, which was itself only an absorbed taste? That’s why it is called nat bar nat—imparting taste through something else that imparts taste. Or not. That is the dispute between Rav and Shmuel.

[Speaker B] You mean this thing didn’t absorb meat taste at all?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, the opposite. From here there is proof that apparently there is no problem eating it, because they cooked the fish in a meat bowl and that itself is no problem at all. The whole question is whether it is permitted to eat it with milk. Okay? Rabbi Elazar was standing before Mar Shmuel. Rabbi Elazar served Shmuel. They brought before him fish that had been placed in a bowl, and he ate it with kutach. Okay? They gave some to him and he did not eat—Shmuel ate. According to his own view, Shmuel has no problem with this; it is permitted. But then Shmuel gave some to Rabbi Elazar, and Rabbi Elazar refused to eat. He said to him: I gave it to your master and he ate it, and you did not eat? Your rabbi—the rabbi who holds this is forbidden—when I gave it to him, he ate it. So you won’t eat? He came before Rav. So Rabbi Elazar, apparently shaken, goes to Rav: Tell me, did you eat this kutach with the fish that Shmuel gave you? He said to him: Has the master retracted his teaching? You can see the parallel to our case—exactly what Rav Nachman asks Rabbah bar Rav Huna and Rav Chisda, right? “Has the master retracted his teaching?” Rav, did you eat this kutach? But you hold it is forbidden. Shmuel gave it to you and you ate it—did you change your mind? Exactly what Rav Nachman asked Rabbah bar Rav Huna and Rav Chisda.

[Speaker B] “His teaching”—doesn’t that mean from his tradition? Yes, from his position.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, it’s the same thing. He said to him: Heaven forbid that the offspring of Abba bar Abba should feed me something I do not hold to be permitted. Heaven forbid that Shmuel would actually dare give me something that according to my own view is forbidden. It never happened. Shmuel tricked you. He didn’t really give me something to eat. Now the medieval authorities (Rishonim) discuss this: did Shmuel lie to him? How can that be? Not important right now. The Ritva here asks: this contradicts our sugya in Sukkah. Because from the sugya here it appears that it is forbidden to give someone something that according to his own view is forbidden. Right? That is what Rav says: “Heaven forbid that the offspring of Abba bar Abba…” How can it be that Shmuel—“the offspring of Abba bar Abba” means Shmuel, because Shmuel’s father was Abba bar Abba. Yes, “the offspring of Abba bar Abba” is Shmuel. Heaven forbid to think that Shmuel would feed me something that according to him is permitted and according to me is forbidden. But in our Gemara we see that it is permitted to do such a thing. How does that fit with the Gemara in Sukkah? No—Rav is saying about Shmuel, heaven forbid that he would do such a thing. So this is apparently an agreed-upon principle. So the medieval authorities (Rishonim) discuss here whether he in fact did it or did not do it—it doesn’t matter—but the Ritva asks from the Gemara here: we see in this Gemara that apparently it is an agreed-upon principle that I cannot feed someone something that according to him is forbidden even if according to me it is permitted. Okay? So the Ritva asks—and this starts already with the Ritva’s teacher—there is a long discussion in the Be’er Sheva on this sugya and on Chullin. It contradicts it: in our case it says it is permitted. Let’s go back to our Ritva—

[Speaker B] Ours—it was elsewhere, that’s not…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So the Ritva says the difference is whether you know or do not know. You see? “And it seems to me”—look, I’m going back here—“and it seems to me that this is specifically because the prohibition is recognizable to his fellow, and if he does not agree, let him not eat. But if it is not recognizable, then no,” as we see in the sugya in Chullin. He says: in Sukkah, after all, we are dealing with something everyone can see. Here there are decorations hanging four handbreadths below the sekhakh; Rabbah and Rav Huna ate there, they saw exactly where he seated them. In such a case, it is permitted. But if there is something you do not know—after all, with this kutach nobody knows whether it was prepared in a meat bowl or not—then there it is forbidden. That’s what the Ritva says. Now let’s think this through for a moment. This can’t be right. Why should it matter to me whether they know or don’t know? After all, the Ritva himself emphasized: it is placing a stumbling block before someone who can see, and that too is forbidden. Even if you know that what you are doing is forbidden, still, if I cause you to stumble in it, I have violated “before the blind.” So why should I care whether they know or don’t know? I’m in the middle of the lecture, too late. Why should I care whether they know or don’t know?

[Speaker E] If they know, then that means—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But that too is “before the blind”—why should I care that they know? Am I allowed to cause the nazirite to stumble when he knows it is wine? No. So if they know here that it hangs four handbreadths below, am I allowed to cause them to stumble? Of course not. So what kind of answer is that?

[Speaker B] Well, let’s say just as an example, a nazirite who now wants to violate his naziriteship—maybe there’s an issue of temptation, that he’s temporarily blind; but someone who fully sees and knows exactly what he is doing—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He says none of that. He says none of that. Let me explain what he means without your helping him. In ordinary “before the blind,” there is no difference whether he knows or doesn’t know. But in this kind of “before the blind,” where I cause you to stumble in something that is forbidden only according to your own view but permitted according to mine—here it matters whether you know. Do you know why? Because this is tolerant monism, not intolerant monism. That settles the second question. The first question we already settled. The Ritva basically says you are allowed to feed him, and that means he is a monist. There still remains the question: tolerant or intolerant? And he says this: since I am a monist, then in principle I am allowed to force the other person. But there is a value of autonomy. If he thinks differently, I am supposed to respect the possibility, the right, of his deciding what he does. And therefore there, if he knows, there is no problem—it’s autonomy, he decides whether to eat or not eat. No problem. But if he doesn’t know, then I did not respect his autonomy; I am deciding for him what is permitted and what is forbidden. So the distinction between whether he knows or does not know stems precisely from the fact that the monism we arrived at is tolerant monism. And here is our halakhic proof. Now look—this is an amazing litmus paper. If we are pluralists, what should the ruling be in such a case? It should be forbidden to feed him in any case, whether he knows or not. Right? Forbidden. Because according to him it is forbidden, and that’s it. If we are ordinary monists, then it is permitted to feed him whether he knows or not. But if we are tolerant monists, then it is permitted to feed him if he knows, and forbidden to feed him if he doesn’t know. And this is really red, green, and blue litmus paper. In other words, every philosophical position here leads to a different halakhic conclusion. That is why this is exactly the test case that can decide among these three positions.

[Speaker B] But wouldn’t tolerance have to establish norms too? Meaning, it’s forbidden or…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Of course it would. I am forbidden to feed him because I have to respect… no, not just pious conduct. You could say the question is what prohibition I violated if I fed him when he didn’t know. Maybe the Ritva would say that it’s not “before the blind,” but rather a prohibition because you are violating his autonomy. He doesn’t say it’s “before the blind”; he says it is forbidden. Do you understand? It could even be that it is “before the blind.” There’s room to discuss that, but I don’t care. What is clear is that there is no room at all for the Ritva’s distinction according to either pluralism or monism. Only tolerant monism can explain this Ritva. Because pluralism says it is forbidden to feed him in every case. Monism says it is permitted to feed him in every case. How can you make a distinction based on whether he knows or not? Within the standard parameters of “before the blind,” there is no such distinction. Only if you are talking about tolerant monism.

[Speaker B] So again, if it’s tolerant monism, then—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying: in principle I am a monist, therefore it is permitted to feed him; there is no prohibition of “before the blind.” Why do I want him to know? If he doesn’t know, then maybe there is no prohibition of “before the blind,” but I have not respected his autonomy. He does not know, and I caused him to violate something that according to his own view is forbidden. That has to be respected. He thinks it is forbidden, so he has to make the decisions about what he does. In other words, whether this counts as “before the blind” or not—that can be discussed.

[Speaker B] Am I allowed to seat them in the sukkah—am I allowed to seat them in the sukkah—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —but to tell them, “Notice, the decorations here hang low; now decide what you’re going to do.” In ordinary “before the blind,” that is forbidden. I am forbidden to give a person pork and say to him, “Notice, this is pork.” No—this is “before the blind”; I am forbidden to do that. But here, in a case where for them it is forbidden and for me it is not forbidden, here there is a difference between whether they know or not. Only here. It’s a wonderful case, because it is really scientific confirmation. Meaning, you take an experiment and say: each position will produce a different halakhic outcome. Pluralism: forbidden in every case. Monism: permitted in every case—intolerant monism. Tolerant monism: permitted when he knows, forbidden when he doesn’t know. And that is exactly what you see here. Permitted when he knows and forbidden when he doesn’t know. The ruling that it is permitted shows that the Ritva is a monist. The qualification he makes afterward from the sugya in Chullin—that the only question is whether they know, and then it is permitted—that shows that he is tolerant. He represents the majority view—

[Speaker B] Rabbi? Or is he…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know of any opinion that disagrees with this. There are some other explanations there in the Gemara in Chullin, but I don’t know whether one can draw a conclusion from them.