Conceptual Analysis – Lesson 22
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
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Table of Contents
- Personal background and acquaintance with the field of electricity on the Sabbath
- The laws of the Sabbath: from the general verse to the structure of primary categories and derivatives
- The meaning of the division into primary categories and derivatives, and its implications for new technologies
- Electricity on the Sabbath: motivation to prohibit versus the need for real halakhic grounding
- The main rationales for prohibiting electricity and the difficulties with them
- The Chazon Ish: electricity as prohibited under building, and how the halakhic world relates to that
- The language of the Chazon Ish and the core of his claim
- Conceptual analysis of the labor of building through Even HaEzel and its application to electricity
- Building as creating an “organism” and a defense of the Chazon Ish’s approach
Summary
General overview
The speaker concludes a series on Choshen Mishpat and asks to demonstrate conceptual analysis through the prohibition of electricity on the Sabbath, specifically from the category of building. He describes how the laws of electricity on the Sabbath took shape in the modern period through a combination of Torah scholarship and technological knowledge, and emphasizes that prohibitions must be anchored in a genuine halakhic source and not merely in the intuition that “obviously this has to be forbidden.” He reviews the main rationales for prohibiting electricity, presents the Chazon Ish’s view as built on a conceptual understanding of building, and ultimately argues that the Chazon Ish is actually the most logical and spacious approach, because it understands electricity as creating a “functional whole” or an “organism” out of inert matter.
Personal background and acquaintance with the field of electricity on the Sabbath
The speaker says that his familiarity with electricity on the Sabbath began during his doctorate at Bar-Ilan, when he lived in Bnei Brak, through a relative who connected him with Professor Lev and his book “Ma’archei Lev on Electricity on the Sabbath.” He describes Professor Lev as one of the fathers of the field, as the founder of Lev Academic Center, and as someone who worked in close cooperation with Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, with Rabbi Shlomo Zalman relying on him as a scientific adviser and clarifying technological issues responsibly. He says that reading the book changed his attitude toward halakhic ruling, when he saw how theoretical reasoning is immediately translated into practical consequences of what is permitted and forbidden, and how a halakhic field can be built in real time and later become an established canon.
The laws of the Sabbath: from the general verse to the structure of primary categories and derivatives
The speaker says that the Torah says, “You shall not do any labor,” without detailing a list of labors, and explains that the Mishnah in Chagigah defines the laws of the Sabbath as “mountains hanging by a hair.” He notes that kindling and carrying out appear in the verses and are discussed as “exceptional” labors in terms of their explicit appearance, and brings the explanation that carrying out is an “inferior labor” and therefore required explicit mention. He presents the thirty-nine primary categories of labor as a conceptual system tied to the labors of the Tabernacle according to the portion of Vayakhel, but notes that there are also sources in the Talmud that establish the number against the thirty-nine appearances of the word “labor / his labor,” and cites Tosafot in Bava Kamma with three versions regarding the relationship between “it was in the Tabernacle” and “it is important.”
The meaning of the division into primary categories and derivatives, and its implications for new technologies
The speaker defines the distinction between a primary category and a derivative as a conceptual analysis of “labor,” and explains that derivatives are determined by similarity to a primary category, without a closed list, and that there is no principled legal difference between a primary category and a derivative because both are prohibited at the Torah level. He gives the example of opening bottles with a detachable ring, as a new act that did not exist in the time of the Sages, and yet it is still discussed in terms of whether it resembles building, demolishing, or the final hammer blow, emphasizing that resemblance to a primary category is what determines the issue even when we are dealing with technological innovation.
Electricity on the Sabbath: motivation to prohibit versus the need for real halakhic grounding
The speaker explains that when electricity entered household use in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the question of its status on the Sabbath arose, and that one needs to understand both the scientific mechanism and the application of Jewish law. He says that the impression from reading many halakhic decisors is that it was obvious to them that it had to be forbidden, and only afterward did they look for a halakhic “peg” on which to hang that prohibition. He criticizes this approach, arguing that today there is no authority to invent new prohibitions, only to interpret existing laws, and therefore the rationale must actually “hold water.” He emphasizes that the question of under which category of labor electricity is forbidden has practical ramifications, and that anyone who thinks the category is merely decorative cannot seriously discuss the implications.
The main rationales for prohibiting electricity and the difficulties with them
The speaker presents the approach of Beit Yitzchak, which attributes the prohibition to “generating current,” by analogy to “creating fragrance” in the Talmud in Beitzah 21, and notes that most halakhic decisors tend in that direction. But he emphasizes that the basis is problematic, because the prohibition of creating fragrance was omitted by Rif, Rosh, Tur, Maimonides, and the Shulchan Arukh, and is brought as practical law mainly by the Rema. He presents Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s approach of kindling through an incandescent filament, and emphasizes that this depends on the dispute between Maimonides and the Raavad regarding kindling metal, and does not fit devices that have no filament. He presents the approach of the final hammer blow as the idea that activating a device is its “completion,” and objects that the device is manufactured even when it is off, so turning it on is use rather than construction, with the further implication that this also affects the question of whether a fan is a utensil whose primary function is prohibited.
The Chazon Ish: electricity as prohibited under building, and how the halakhic world relates to that
The speaker says that most first-rank halakhic decisors do not accept the Chazon Ish’s approach that the prohibition of electricity falls under building, and regard it as a strained and highly individual approach, while it is mostly cited by summary writers. He tells an anecdote about Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s book “Me’orei Esh,” which originally included a chapter explaining why this is not building, but that chapter was omitted because it seemed so far-fetched; then, after the publication of the Chazon Ish’s approach, the discussion returned through a detailed correspondence between Rabbi Shlomo Zalman and the Chazon Ish, printed in the “complete Me’orei Esh” edition of the Jerusalem Institute. He stresses that the myth according to which the Chazon Ish is talking about “building the electrical circuit” is not correct, and that the Chazon Ish’s approach does not forbid closing a switch in a device that is not connected to electricity, because for him the “circuit” is not itself the essence of the prohibition.
The language of the Chazon Ish and the core of his claim
The speaker quotes Chazon Ish, Orach Chayim, section 50, subsection 9, that activating electricity is “repairing a utensil” and that “it is close to saying that this is building by Torah law, like making a utensil,” and that since the wires are attached to the house, this is “like building in something attached to the ground,” and “involves building and demolishing.” He cites from the letters language stating that “when electricity is turned on, introducing the current into the wires is always considered like fastening firmly,” and presents additional expressions such as “repairing form in matter” and “repairing the wire itself from death to life.” He brings the Chazon Ish’s reply to Rabbi Shlomo Zalman regarding the comparison to opening a water tap, where the Chazon Ish distinguishes between temporary heat in iron and an “electrical force impressed” into the wire, and explains electricity as a “temperamental composition” and habitual use, with two rationales: “assembling the parts” and “repairing the wire itself from death to life.”
Conceptual analysis of the labor of building through Even HaEzel and its application to electricity
The speaker brings the analysis of Rabbi Isser Zalman Meltzer, author of Even HaEzel, on Maimonides, according to which there are two derivatives of building: a tent and making cheese, and asks how they resemble one another. He describes Even HaEzel’s move as examining house-building as the gathering of parts that creates a functional space, where a tent resembles it by creating the space and making cheese resembles it by gathering the parts. He adds that the move relies on the possibility that resemblance is not a transitive relation. He objects to that move, arguing that if an “essential” characteristic is missing, how can the act still be forbidden as a derivative on the same level as the primary category? Instead, he proposes a unified definition of building as creating a “complete functional whole” by gathering parts, where creating space is not a separate feature but part of the same creation of a whole.
Building as creating an “organism” and a defense of the Chazon Ish’s approach
The speaker proposes describing the labor of building as creating an “organism” in a conceptual sense, where the individual parts lose independent meaning and become one functioning system. He illustrates this through the distinction between a living body and a corpse as a collection of cells that is not a functional whole. He argues that according to this definition, the Chazon Ish’s words about electricity become understandable: the flow of current “awakens” the wire “from death to life,” creates a new function, and connects the parts of the system in a functional bond even if they are not physically fastened together. He concludes that the Chazon Ish offers a classic understanding of building, and even “more building” than making cheese or a tent, and therefore in his view this is the correct approach to prohibiting electricity on the Sabbath, even though it is stringent because it defines it as a Torah-level prohibition. He closes by saying that he will continue sharpening the concept of organism and its implications in the next lecture.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, last time we finished that little sub-series on Choshen Mishpat. I talked a bit about what Choshen Mishpat is, about rights and obligations, about what money is and what law is in general actually, and what money is, what a loan is, and what acquisition by money is as opposed to acquisition by exchange. More or less, you could say we covered most of the basic concepts of the legal world, or at least of the civil law side of Jewish law. What I want to do today is touch on something I wrote a column about not long ago, but I thought this would also be a good example of conceptual analysis, and that is the prohibition of electricity on the Sabbath—though I’m doing it through looking at the labor of building. And that too is really a kind of conceptual analysis. Maybe a few words before I begin. What’s “making cheese”?
[Speaker B] Electricity—isn’t that building something? Because making cheese is also building, right? Okay. And making cheese too—what is making cheese? Making cheese sounds more like selecting than building. So what kind of building is this?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Selecting isn’t there, but let me get into it and then we’ll see. There’s no point objecting now before I’ve even started talking about it. Okay, so I said I want a bit of introduction. First introduction—and it’s not really connected to our topic. My acquaintance with this subject of electricity on the Sabbath began when I was doing my doctorate at Bar-Ilan. We were living in Bnei Brak, and I had some relative, a distant relative, who was also related to Professor Lev through Professor Lev’s wife. Professor Lev is really one of the fathers of this field of electricity on the Sabbath, because he had broad knowledge both in learning, in Torah, and in science, technology, engineering. He’s the one who founded Lev Academic Center, of course. So naturally the questions flowed to him, and all the shaping of the laws of electricity on the Sabbath in our era, it seems to me—well, not all of it, but almost all of it—can be attributed to Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach together with Professor Lev, some combination of the two of them. So I think he’s a very, very important figure in the context of these discussions about electricity on the Sabbath.
Now because our mutual relative came to me one day and said, listen—he also lived across from me in Bnei Brak—he brought me a book by Professor Lev called “Ma’archei Lev on Electricity on the Sabbath.” He said, listen, Professor Lev is pretty frustrated because nobody reads the book. Nobody reads the book, again, because you need a foot in both sides of the topic: both the scientific-technological side and the Torah side. So there are very few people who can really read that book critically from both directions. And he asked me whether I’d be willing to read it and send comments to Professor Lev. It was an interesting challenge, although at that time I was very dismissive of halakhic ruling. Halakhic ruling seemed to me like something for technocrats, not really interesting. Analytical learning, in my eyes, was the essence of Torah, going down to its DNA. Since then I’ve matured—since then I’ve matured—and I think one of the central steps in that maturation process was going through Professor Lev’s book. It was truly fascinating.
It was fascinating for a few reasons. First, suddenly I saw how a halakhic field takes shape, and you see how theoretical ideas and analytical insights can actually be translated into the question of what to do—what’s permitted and what’s forbidden, what’s right and what’s not right. All these things have practical halakhic implications, and every idea you toss out there, as though detached, immediately gets translated into a practical halakhic consequence. And then I began to grasp that this field of halakhic ruling is really fascinating. As long as you actually do it properly, and don’t just go looking for the paragraph in the Mishnah Berurah that addresses the question you were asked, but really try to understand the essence of the question and the passages that might be relevant to it, and how, if at all, they can be applied, and what the differences are and the similarities—it’s just a fascinating field, really fascinating.
I think that afterward I began to understand the depth and beauty of Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s responsa—he’s a decisor, but a decisor out of real learning, out of real learning, not just because this one said this and that one said that. Minchat Shlomo, right? So in short, that was one insight. But beyond that there was another interesting point that suddenly hit me: this is a very rare opportunity to catch a halakhic field while it’s in formation. Because we’re used to thinking of Jewish law as something in ancient books, in Rashi script, that has accompanied us for thousands of years—or at least hundreds—and all we have to do is try to understand what those books say, and of course apply them to our lives.
Electricity on the Sabbath is a field that was entirely born the moment electrical technology was created or discovered. Then you have to start formulating the ways we approach such a field: what is permitted and what is forbidden, how do we think about it at all. And this whole subject is basically virgin ground. There’s nothing there, everything is open. You can basically make any argument you want in any direction—there are no sources, no anything. You just have to decide what’s right and what’s wrong and proceed. Then suddenly I saw that the early halakhic decisors who dealt with it—there were some, say at the beginning of the twentieth century—but the ones who dealt with it systematically were really decisors from the second half of the twentieth century. Rabbi Chaim Ozer a little bit, but Minchat Shlomo, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman—that’s really the main decisor who dealt with these areas. Not to mention all the people from halakhic-technology institutes, like the Tzomet Institute or the Jerusalem Institute for Technology and Jewish Law, all these institutes that really are trying to build, systematically, this whole field of electricity on the Sabbath. So this is work that has really been done relatively in our own time.
Now it keeps developing, because it’s a field that continues to develop, but today it’s already much more built up than it was. Still, as someone who—well, at least I don’t see myself as especially old—I managed to touch the period when it was taking shape. Meaning, when I read the book, I suddenly saw that the things I’m used to from Shemirat Shabbat KeHilchatah or from what people always say—none of that is actually certain at all. Every such thing is open to discussion. Wait, there’s this line of reasoning, that line of reasoning, does it resemble this, does it resemble that? We’ve gotten used to all sorts of accepted instructions—what’s permitted and what’s forbidden, and Sabbath timers and so on. There are already some laws; today it’s a relatively institutionalized field, among other reasons thanks to Shemirat Shabbat KeHilchatah, whose author was himself a student of Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach. But when you go into the foundations—and Professor Lev deals with foundations—you suddenly see that this is a field in formation, and everything written in Shemirat Shabbat KeHilchatah is far from self-evident. I mean, it depends on the reasoning. You can agree, you can disagree, you can analyze the whole issue differently and reach completely different conclusions.
And then suddenly I saw that I, little old me, had some opportunity to take part in shaping a halakhic field that after ten, twenty, I don’t know, fifty years would turn into some ordered canon, with a kind of Kitzur Shulchan Arukh saying what’s permitted and what’s forbidden—all of which is really the result of the give-and-take we’re engaged in right now, and the matter is basically in our hands.
[Speaker B] Did the Rabbi deliberately not mention the Chazon Ish in connection with the Sabbath?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, the Chazon Ish is not a central decisor in this area. He has a thesis, and I’ll talk about him, but he didn’t deal with it extensively. Everything the Chazon Ish has on this issue is basically half a section in Orach Chayim in the Chazon Ish, and in his correspondence with Rabbi Shlomo Zalman, which is brought in Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s book.
[Speaker C] And now we’re beginning to hear, and I’m leaving.
[Speaker B] And Rabbi Shlomo Zalman had a connection with Professor Lev? They actually spoke? Rabbi Shlomo Zalman and Professor Lev had a connection between them?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A close connection. He was his scientific adviser. Meaning, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman, unlike other decisors, when he approached a topic he checked it properly on the scientific level too, on the technological level. He consulted experts; he didn’t just say things casually. By the way, with some of the great decisors, sometimes you see things they say and they plainly don’t understand what they’re talking about. Sometimes, you know—some time ago I saw some discussion about elevators on the Sabbath, I think, and something came out from Rabbi Elyashiv—sorry, not Rabbi Shlomo Zalman—and I don’t remember exactly what it was, but afterward I saw that he had spoken with some elevator technician, and from his perspective that was the professional consultation. That’s not serious. Again, maybe he didn’t have time for more, I don’t know exactly, but it’s not serious—especially in a field like this, where what you say is going to shape it. It’s a field that’s being institutionalized now. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman did things really responsibly, properly, and in that sense his collaboration with Professor Lev built this field.
So this opportunity I had there, to read the material—I sent him comments, got responses from him, we corresponded a bit about it—it was simply fascinating. Because suddenly you see that after we clarify the issues, I could now write a Kitzur Shulchan Arukh for the laws of electricity on the Sabbath, and with a bit of luck it could become the canonical book that everyone follows. Everyone—well, I didn’t end up doing it, okay?—but it could become the canonical book everyone follows afterward. It determines what’s permitted, what’s forbidden, and that’s that. Nobody even thinks that behind it there is a whole structure of reasoning and thought and insights and different understandings, and that you can argue about things.
In a certain sense, it gives you entry into the shoes of the Sages and the medieval authorities (Rishonim)—meaning those who began to formulate and conceptualize halakhic fields from scratch, to define them systematically and structurally. Usually that was done in their era, in the era of the Sages, and here’s a field where that’s happening now. And suddenly you see how that process happens. For me it was an extraordinary experience. You see how this thing is done, and suddenly you understand that certain lines of reasoning you see in the Sages, say, which strike you as odd, as things that don’t seem logical—you suddenly see it’s not like that. When you’re in the formation stage, you’re much more open to different directions, and there are very fundamental lines of reasoning that can definitely shape the field in all kinds of directions.
Today, when I look at ancient processes like that, I already come with a huge amount of baggage that was formed afterward, so maybe a lot of things there look strange to me because I’ve already become used to certain ways of thinking. But when you are shaping it, the arguments you make are the ones that in the end will determine what’s permitted and what’s forbidden. And sometimes they’re just gut arguments—you have no source, no proof, but it seems to you that this resembles that, or that it doesn’t. It seems to you that this is the right way to relate to it, or some other way is right—and that’s it. From there on, you can decide what the law will be. You have no way to test that reasoning in the way we usually do with medieval authorities (Rishonim), later authorities (Acharonim), decisors—there’s almost no way to test it. The field is taking shape right now. I have an idea, and that idea yields either a Torah prohibition, or something fully permitted from the outset, or whatever. So this is really a unique kind of experience. For me it was genuinely fascinating.
Okay, that’s just an introduction not really connected to the topic, but I think it was worth sharing. It’s interesting. I had never looked at Jewish law from this angle of: let’s look at the stages in which it gets formed, when people start building it. I’m always used to seeing it already there, and trying to analyze what’s going on, not trying to build it from nothing. The freedom, of course, is much greater. The freedom and your ability to go with your reasoning and with what you think are much greater, because what you think is what will be. You’re no longer bound by a hundred thousand precedents and by patterns of thought already embedded in you. Everything is open—virgin ground, as I said.
Okay, that was a first introduction not related to the topic. Let’s start with the topic itself. So one more short introduction. In the Torah itself it says: “You shall not do any labor.” A very simple and general verse. That’s it. How do we get from there to a huge tractate like tractate Shabbat with all the medieval authorities (Rishonim) and later authorities (Acharonim) and law books and this whole vast sea? All in all, the verse says: “You shall not do any labor.” That’s it. Beyond that, the list of forbidden labors on the Sabbath does not appear in the Torah. What does appear in the Torah? “Let no man go out from his place on the Sabbath day”—say, carrying out also requires a bit of interpretive gymnastics for that, but let’s say carrying out does appear. And kindling: “You shall not kindle fire in any of your dwellings on the Sabbath day.” And “in plowing time and in harvest time you shall cease”—the Talmud at the beginning of Moed Katan shifts that to the Sabbatical year, even though in the plain sense of the verses it’s about the Sabbath. So in effect, at least in the Sages’ reading, there are only kindling and carrying out. The other labors do not appear.
Not for nothing the Mishnah in Chagigah says that the laws of the Sabbath are “mountains hanging by a hair,” because in the Torah there’s a hair, and there’s an entire mountain that we create from that hair. And indeed the Sages already ask: why did the Torah write kindling and carrying out? About kindling, that’s a dispute among tannaim—did kindling come out to teach that it is merely a prohibition, or to divide the categories? We learn something from the fact that kindling appears. Why does carrying out appear? On that the medieval authorities (Rishonim) stand and say that carrying out is an inferior labor. Therefore, had it not appeared explicitly in the verse, perhaps we wouldn’t have thought it was forbidden. Okay, that’s just background.
So where do the labors come from? There are thirty-nine primary categories of labor, and the derivatives of each such category. In principle, the primary categories are commonly understood to be the central labors that were done in the Tabernacle. In the portion of Vayakhel, the Sabbath passage is juxtaposed to the Tabernacle, so there is some kind of linkage here, and the labors done in the Tabernacle are the ones forbidden on the Sabbath. By the way, that’s not agreed by everyone, and even in the Talmudic discussions there are different passages from which it seems otherwise. There is a passage in tractate Shabbat, I think 49 or something like that, where the Talmud says that the thirty-nine primary categories correspond to the thirty-nine occurrences of “labor / his labor” in the Torah. It doesn’t seem connected to the Tabernacle. Also, in the Talmud at the beginning of Bava Kamma, where the Talmud says: that which was in the Tabernacle is significant and is called a primary category, and what was not in the Tabernacle but is significant is called a derivative—or however exactly the wording goes. Tosafot there has three versions of the Talmud’s text. Tosafot and its commentators, the Maharam and the Maharsha, have three versions of how to read the passage there.
One version says that what was in the Tabernacle is important, and therefore it is called a primary category—what was in the Tabernacle is important. Another version says: what was in the Tabernacle and is important is called a primary category. Meaning you need both conditions—the fact that it was in the Tabernacle and that it is important. That’s the second version. A third version says: either it was in the Tabernacle or it is important. It could be that something is important and that alone is enough to turn it into a primary category even if it wasn’t in the Tabernacle. In any case, the primary categories of labor are listed in chapter seven of tractate Shabbat—there are thirty-nine primary categories of labor.
[Speaker B] The derivatives… wait, according to that it could come out not thirty-nine—it could be 150 primary categories. I don’t understand. It could be that there wouldn’t be thirty-nine primary categories but forty, fifty.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They arrived at thirty-nine. Either because of the Talmud that said there are thirty-nine occurrences of “labor / his labor” in the Torah, or independently they counted the important labors in the Tabernacle and arrived at thirty-nine types.
[Speaker B] No, but according to the third reasoning in Tosafot, that anything important becomes a labor…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But you still have in the Talmud that there are thirty-nine occurrences of “labor / his labor”… so it has to be thirty-nine. Thirty-nine is a given number. The only question is how to populate it—whether to look for what was in the Tabernacle or to look for what is important. And the very concept of “important,” by the way, is… You should understand that the division into primary categories and derivatives is itself a conceptual analysis, because it’s a conceptual analysis of the concept of labor. In the Torah it says: “You shall not do any labor.” Now the question is: what is labor? By analyzing the concept of labor, we arrive at thirty-nine primary categories and their derivatives. Okay?
Now, the importance that determines whether some labor is a primary category is composed of two kinds. This is really just a general introduction, but it consists of two parameters. One parameter is, let’s say, how significant or creative that labor is. The second parameter is how distinctive it is—how different it is from other creative labors. Not in the sense of how much it creates, but in the sense of how different its definition is from the definitions of other labors. If there is a very, very creative labor, but it resembles another labor already appearing among the primary categories, then it won’t count as a separate primary category. It will fall under that other primary category, because it isn’t distinctive enough. So to build the structure of the… and that’s what determines the thirty-nine primary categories of labor.
The derivatives we determine by similarity to the primary categories. Meaning, if there is a labor that resembles a primary category, then for me it is prohibited as its derivative. By the way, there is no difference between a derivative and a primary category. There’s no practical distinction—both are prohibited at the Torah level, both incur stoning if done intentionally and a sin offering if done unwittingly. So it’s really just a matter of classification for purposes of study. A derivative is simply something that was not in the Tabernacle, or is not important, or does not meet the Talmud’s criteria, but is still creative enough to be prohibited on the Sabbath. Then I look at how similar it is, or to which primary category it is similar, and that’s how I determine what derivative it is.
As for formal warning, it apparently doesn’t matter—there is really a tannaitic dispute there at the beginning of Bava Kamma. Someone here asked about formal warning. But in the plain halakhic conclusion, even with respect to formal warning it doesn’t matter. True, you’re right that there are formulations in the medieval authorities (Rishonim) that suggest maybe there are some implications with respect to formal warning; I won’t get into that here. Minchat Chinukh brings three approaches regarding formal warning for a derivative, but we won’t go into that here.
So that’s the division into primary categories and derivatives, which as I said is itself a conceptual analysis of the concept of labor. Now once I have the map, I need to examine every action I do on the Sabbath and see whether it falls under one of the thirty-nine categories. The derivatives are not a separate category—the derivatives resemble a primary category. Therefore, if I have a derivative that resembles a primary category, then even if it is new and comes into being today, it will still be a derivative and it will still be prohibited by Torah law. If it doesn’t resemble a primary category, then it won’t be prohibited. There’s no point looking—there is no closed list of derivatives. There’s no point checking among the derivatives whether it resembles one of the listed derivatives, because the list of derivatives itself is not closed. The Talmud mentions here and there this derivative and that derivative, but the medieval authorities (Rishonim) add more, the decisors add more. It’s not a closed list. Anything that resembles a primary category is called its derivative. It can be something created right now.
For example, yes, there’s a discussion about opening bottles on the Sabbath. Building, demolishing, the final hammer blow—various approaches like that. But in the beginning, when those caps first appeared—you know, those caps you open and then some ring gets detached—at first nobody thought it was forbidden. Nobody thought it was forbidden; people opened bottles. And at some stage a discussion started: wait a second, maybe it’s forbidden. I remember even a pamphlet put out by the rebbe of Zutshka in Bnei Brak, where he wrote a booklet about how severe it is and that it’s a Torah prohibition due to building—I don’t remember, maybe the final hammer blow, I don’t remember what exactly his conclusion was, but he was very stringent about it. To this day there are still some arguments about whether it is permitted or forbidden—again, something that has somehow crystallized, but I was still around at the stage when there were major arguments about it.
In any case, obviously those caps didn’t exist in the time of the Sages. So what should we say—that opening bottles is a derivative of building? Opening caps. That’s true, but it’s not really the point. It is prohibited under building—why do I care whether it’s a derivative or not a derivative? It resembles building enough to be prohibited. That’s all. And what if it was only created now? So what? The Talmud doesn’t discuss it? So what? That changes nothing. If it resembles building, then it is prohibited under building. So that’s the general form of thinking.
Now at the end of the nineteenth century, beginning of the twentieth century, this technology of electricity entered—primarily electric light bulbs and the like, electrical devices. These technologies entered household use. Then of course the question came before halakhic decisors: what about the Sabbath? Is it permitted or forbidden? What do we do in such a case? Again, as I said earlier, in order to address a question like that, first you have to understand these scientific mechanisms of electricity. And second, of course, you have to know how to apply the rules of Jewish law to those situations, to those mechanisms.
In that sense, maybe there were a few earlier references—Beit Yitzchak is considered perhaps the first, or among the first. It’s some parenthetical paragraph in some collected notes at the end of volume two of his responsa. It appears there. It seems to him that it is because one “generates current,” and then he moves on. That’s the approach of Beit Yitzchak, which today is basically accepted by most decisors: that it falls under “creating.” Then Rabbi Chaim Ozer makes a few comments, and here and there there are assorted remarks. There were even some who permitted it—mainly Sephardic decisors—but there were decisors who permitted it entirely, because on what basis would you prohibit it? We can’t invent new prohibitions. They permitted it.
And somehow, when you read what the decisors wrote on this subject, the very clear impression is that it was obvious to them that it had to be prohibited, and all they were looking for was a peg to hang it on, something to latch onto. “One who wants to hang himself may hang on a great tree.” It was clear that they wanted to prohibit it; the only question was how—how to anchor it as what, how to ground it or how to justify the prohibition. But somehow it was already obvious from the outset that it had to be prohibited. On my website, by the way, where I wrote this column—just quite recently, column 397, and today I published 400, so not long ago, maybe two weeks—in the comments someone brought testimony from a student of the Chazon Ish saying that the Chazon Ish explicitly said that anyone looking for this source or that source simply doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Obviously it has to be prohibited, and the sources come afterward. I told him he hadn’t understood the Chazon Ish correctly, but the spirit of the matter is clearly like that.
Now why is that important? Because there are decisors for whom, once it’s obvious that it has to be prohibited, they don’t bother that much establishing whether it’s prohibited because of kindling, because of building, because of the final hammer blow, because of generating current. It’s obvious that it has to be prohibited, and then just to give some taste in the mouth I’ll tell you under which labor or which rabbinic prohibition it falls. But really it doesn’t depend on that. You won’t make me happy if you bring me something else; it doesn’t start there and it doesn’t end there.
My problem with this is that, with all due respect to the fact that it seems obvious to you—or is clear to you—that it has to be forbidden, the fact that it’s clear is nice, but you can’t forbid something unless there is a real source, a source that actually holds water, not a source just meant to shut up the person listening to you so he won’t ask questions. A real source. If it isn’t anchored in a real source, you cannot forbid it. A sage today who thinks something should be forbidden has no authority whatsoever to forbid it. Is he a Sanhedrin? Does “do not turn aside” apply to him? He can’t forbid anything, unless he is interpreting a Torah law or a rabbinic law established by the Sanhedrin or in the Talmud or in other authorized places. He can interpret; he can show that what you are doing here is forbidden because of that known law. But to innovate a new prohibition—there is no way to do that today. You can’t create a new prohibition today.
Therefore I think that even if everyone feels it’s obvious that it should be prohibited, that obviousness cannot serve as a halakhic basis. It can be motivation to search for a halakhic basis, but in the end, the basis you propose has to hold water. If it doesn’t hold water, then it isn’t forbidden.
[Speaker D] Rabbi, it also has practical ramifications—but not with respect to the labor under which it is prohibited. Clearly.
. Clearly.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. So that’s exactly the point. Meaning, once you take seriously the category of labor on which you’re hanging the matter, then of course it also has many practical ramifications. Someone who says that we just prohibit it because that’s what seems right to us, and the labor category we attach to it is just something we make up so it will look good, then it’s very hard to discuss practical ramifications, because he doesn’t really mean that it actually emerges from that category of labor. By the way, a great many halakhic decisors are very comfortable attributing the Chazon Ish’s view to that sort of approach. The Chazon Ish said that closing an electric circuit on the Sabbath is prohibited because of building—because of building. And the later authorities who came after him are astonished by this, deeply astonished. They say it doesn’t even get off the ground, it’s forced and far-fetched, and there’s no logic to it at all. And therefore the serious halakhic decisors, none of them really deal with it. None of the serious halakhic decisors truly relate to this view that electricity is prohibited because of building. The only ones who bring it are the compilers, those who summarize all the positions of the decisors, so they include the Chazon Ish too because he was also an important decisor. But those who examine the passages themselves, first-rank decisors and not second-rank decisors, almost all of them, I think, say that the Chazon Ish is a position one need not be concerned about. A strange, unique, distant view.
As an anecdote: Rabbi Shlomo Zalman wrote a book on electricity on the Sabbath called Me’orei Eish. And when that book first came out, it was before the Chazon Ish arrived in the Land. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman was of course very young, but he wrote the book. And originally—as his son Rabbi Shmuel Auerbach testifies—there was a chapter there explaining why there is no issue of building here. Right? And as a friend of mine, who drew my attention to this note, said: when he came back to the kollel, the guys in the kollel laughed themselves silly. Why don’t you also devote a chapter to explaining that this is not an issue of meat and milk? Meaning, what’s the connection? Why would you devote a chapter to saying this thing is not building? Who would even imagine that it is building? So he omitted the chapter from the first edition of the book. A year, two, three after the book came out, the Chazon Ish’s position appeared, saying that electricity—closing an electric circuit—is prohibited because of building. Then in the complete edition of Me’orei Eish, the Jerusalem Institute edition where they republished the book with additions and supplements, in the second part they also brought the omissions, and they also brought the correspondence between Rabbi Shlomo Zalman and the Chazon Ish. A letter and a response, another letter and another response, on this issue, because Rabbi Shlomo Zalman disagreed. The Chazon Ish, very politely and very gently—but he absolutely did not agree with the Chazon Ish’s view. And a large part of what we understand about the Chazon Ish’s position can actually be learned from that correspondence that appears in Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s book, because the letters the Chazon Ish sent him are printed there too. And there he also explains his position.
Anyway, let’s continue the survey for a moment before we enter the issue itself. In the end, regarding electricity on the Sabbath, almost all decisors say it is prohibited. But the question is whether this is a Torah-level prohibition or a rabbinic prohibition, and if it is a Torah-level prohibition, on what grounds—what parent category is this derived from?
So the Beit Yitzchak argued that it is prohibited because of creating fragrance—because of “creating,” or “creating fragrance.” In tractate Beitzah 21, the Talmud there discusses creating fragrance as a rabbinic prohibition. Someone who imbues a garment with fragrance, making it a perfumed garment, that is called creating fragrance in the garment, and it is a rabbinic prohibition. The Beit Yitzchak claims that one who activates an electric circuit creates current. Just as you attach fragrance to a garment, so too you insert current into the wire, into the electric device, and that is called creating, which is a rabbinic prohibition.
That’s not as absurd as it sounds, and in fact most decisors today hold like him, like the Beit Yitzchak. But the Beit Yitzchak’s assumption is very, very far from simple. It is difficult not only because of the question whether it is really similar to creating or not similar to creating, and the whole discussion of the parameters of creating—I won’t get into that here—but because in the sugya in tractate Beitzah it is not clear at all that we actually rule this prohibition of creating fragrance. Maimonides, the Shulchan Arukh, the Tur, the Rif, and the Rosh all omitted this prohibition. None of them rules it into Jewish law. So if you say the prohibition of creating was never ruled into Jewish law in the first place, how can you now base the prohibition of electricity on the Sabbath on the law of creating, when the law of creating itself was never ruled into practice? The only one who brings it into practice is the Rema in his glosses to the Shulchan Arukh; he writes that there is a prohibition of creating fragrance. That’s it—only him. So this whole story of creating fragrance is very questionable, which of course sharpens even more that feeling that the rationales come after the motivation to prohibit. The motivation to prohibit existed beforehand, and the rationales came afterward, and therefore some of them limp.
After that there is Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s position, that it is prohibited because of kindling. But the kindling here is very far from simple, because this is a dispute between Maimonides and the Raavad, since we are talking here about one who kindles metal. You’re not kindling fire in combustible material like wood; rather, you are kindling metal. Kindling metal is a dispute between Maimonides and the Raavad whether it has the law of kindling or not. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman discusses this at length; he perhaps wanted to claim that even according to the Raavad there would be a law of kindling here. Very difficult. But even if you accept that, it is true only in a place where there is an incandescent filament, as in an old-fashioned lamp—right, today they no longer make lamps like that, an old lamp. But in devices that do not have a burning filament, there is no kindling here. And as for the sparks that come out—what they say, that when you turn on electricity sparks come out—to say that this is kindling is very strange. It is a fire you do not use, and it goes out within a second; that is not called kindling, certainly not a Torah-level prohibition. So the mechanism of kindling too is very questionable.
Some say it is a prohibition of the final hammer blow. The final hammer blow is a parent category of labor, meaning finishing a device; the completion of constructing the device or the utensil is called the final hammer blow. The last hammer strike that completes the form of the utensil. In that sense, you might say that activating the device, turning it on, actually makes it into a functioning device. That is the completion of its preparation. And again there are very great disputes, because the big question is whether turning on the device is the completion of its manufacture, or whether the device is already manufactured while turned off—its production is complete. Turning it on is using the device; it is not part of constructing it. Say I have a fan, and I pressed the switch and the fan started operating. Someone who wants to say that this is prohibited because of the final hammer blow is basically trying to claim that pressing the switch is the completion of the fan’s manufacture, because only now has a working fan been created. Before that there was a non-working fan; the complete fan is a working fan. That is very strange, because when I turn the fan off, what, am I destroying it? Obviously not. The fan was ready beforehand. The normal use is to turn the fan on.
By the way, this touches a bit on the question whether a fan is considered a utensil whose primary function is prohibited. There is a dispute among the decisors. I, for example, think it is not a utensil whose primary function is prohibited. In my opinion it is a utensil whose primary function is ventilation, and one is allowed to enjoy ventilation on the Sabbath. What is prohibited is turning on the switch. But this utensil is not made for switch-turning; it is made for ventilation. Turning on the switch is only the way I activate it. It is not called a utensil whose primary function is prohibited. Anyway, that is a different discussion. So I’m saying: the final hammer blow is also a rather questionable source.
Then the Chazon Ish comes and says it is prohibited because of building. Now notice: activating an electric circuit is prohibited because of building. Once we leave kindling and move to building, then it no longer applies only to devices like an electric bulb that have an incandescent filament, but to every electric circuit—even if there is nothing glowing inside it—it will be prohibited under the law of building. Under kindling, you prohibit only lighting an incandescent bulb; the other electrical devices would not involve a Torah-level prohibition. But if you go from the angle of building, then there is no difference whether there is a filament or not; it is Torah-level, all these things are prohibited by Torah law. So you see there are practical ramifications to the question of where we derive the prohibition from.
As I said earlier, the overwhelming majority of decisors—the important decisors, I mean, not mere quoters and compilers—the overwhelming majority do not accept this business of building. Building is astonishing. And therefore in the end, either in an incandescent lamp, where it is because of kindling—and even that may depend on the dispute between Maimonides and the Raavad—or with things that do not have a filament, it is only a rabbinic prohibition on the basis of creating current. That is the accepted and widespread approach among the decisors. The Chazon Ish’s position is not accepted; most decisors reject it outright.
Now, for many years I too thought that this Chazon Ish idea was made up. It really was not clear at all what he wanted. And what does this have to do with building? What did you build here by turning on a switch? What did you build? Usually people think that what you built is the electric circuit. By closing the switch you connected the electric circuit, and now an electric circuit has been created. That is what you built. And according to that conception, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman himself brings those who wanted to claim that according to the Chazon Ish it would be prohibited to close a switch even when the device is not connected to electricity. Think of a fan that is not plugged into the socket at all, but if you turn on its switch, you have closed the electric circuit inside it. And if closing the electric circuit is considered building, then you have violated a Torah prohibition even though you did not activate the fan. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman rejects this; he says that cannot be, even according to the Chazon Ish there is no issue of building there. That is obvious. You need the circuit to function. And in fact, when you look at the Chazon Ish’s wording—and in a moment we will—you see that the Chazon Ish is not talking at all about building the electric circuit. That is a myth. Nowhere does he mention that the prohibition of building here is because you are building an electric circuit. His formulations are all sorts of other formulations, but not building the circuit. Therefore it is completely absurd to say that closing a switch where it is not connected to electricity is prohibited, even according to the Chazon Ish.
So what does the Chazon Ish say? Let’s look. I brought a few short quotations here. This is from the original book of the Chazon Ish, Orach Chaim, section 50, subparagraph 9. This is the subparagraph where the Chazon Ish’s position on electricity appears, in part of that subparagraph. Understand that this is really a marginal note in the Chazon Ish.
“There is also here an issue of repairing a utensil”—repairing a utensil means fixing a utensil—“since one sets it into its proper condition to allow the electric current to flow continuously, and it is close to saying that this is Torah-level building, like making a utensil. And all the more so here, where all the wires are connected to the house, and it is like building in something attached, and there is no issue here of there being no building in utensils; rather, its law is like that of something attached, and there is in it building and demolition. And here that distinction makes no difference, because even in utensils, in a case like this it is considered building.”
The Chazon Ish is basically addressing here—background is needed—the Talmud in the sugya of building says that there is no building and demolition in utensils. There is building in things attached to the ground, in structures like houses; there you have the labor of building. But in utensils, in movable things not attached to the ground, there is no building and no demolition. Yet the medieval authorities in several places bring proofs from various passages that even with utensils there is a labor of building. In several sugyot you see this, despite the Talmudic rule that there is no building and demolition in utensils. Rashi and the Ran say no, in all those sugyot it is not talking about the labor of building. But most of the medieval authorities say otherwise, and they argue that if you build a utensil from the outset, then there is building even in utensils. If you fasten the parts of the utensil tightly into each other, then there is building even in utensils. Meaning, there are situations where there is building even in utensils.
So here the Chazon Ish says as follows: if you are talking about a household electric circuit and you turn on the light switch in the house, then this is not in utensils—it is attached to the ground, part of the structure—so it is because of building. If you are talking about a movable electric device, a fan, okay? A battery-operated fan—let’s say that, maybe through the cord it is considered attached to the house, I don’t know—a battery-operated fan, then that fan is not attached, so there seemingly building would not apply because there is no building in utensils. The Chazon Ish says, not true, because in a case like this even in utensils it is considered building. Why? Because of the wording he used at the beginning: “since one sets it into its proper condition to allow the electric current to flow continuously.” Why is that called building? What does that have to do with it? For that we need to see additional formulations of the Chazon Ish.
In the letters to Rabbi Shlomo Zalman there is one formulation where this appears: “And in opening the electricity, when one introduces the current into the wires, that is always considered like fastening.” We turn on the electricity, we fasten the current into the wire, and therefore it is considered like fastening. What does that mean? In building in utensils, if you remember, I said that the Talmud says there is no building in utensils, but if one fastens the two parts of the utensil—say a handle and the head of a hammer, or as the Talmud says, fitting the handle into the hoe—right, a hoe and its handle, inserting the handle into the metal eye of the hoe—okay? If you drive it in tightly, Tosafot say there is building even in utensils. So here the Chazon Ish says that when you fasten the current into the wire, you are fastening it, and that is considered like fastening, and therefore even though this is a movable device it is called building in utensils. An extremely strange wording. Everyone is amazed at this—what did you fasten? “You fasten the electricity in the wires”? “You fasten the current in the wires”? You don’t fasten current into the wire; you activate current in the wire. What kind of strange wording is that?
Another formulation: he says it is giving form to matter. The physical material—the wire through which current passes—the physical matter receives a different form, a different essence, a different significance. That too is a phrase from the Chazon Ish when he sees this as a prohibition because of building.
In his letters to Rabbi Shlomo Zalman he writes as follows. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman asks him there what many later authorities ask: after all, opening the switch in the end—opening the switch—allows the electric current to flow. How is that different from opening a faucet that allows the water to flow? And there the Chazon Ish would not say that it is because of building. So Rabbi Shlomo Zalman asked him that. And the Chazon Ish answers like this:
“The matter depends on judgment. Heating iron does not create a new nature in the iron; rather, the heat resides temporarily within the iron, and the iron continually expels it.” When you heat iron, it doesn’t turn the iron into something else, and the moment you stop heating, the heat will depart and the iron will remain as it was. “But heating the electric wire arouses the electric power embedded in the wire itself, and it comes from a composite temperament rooted in their original formation. And this use is constant, and setting it into its condition”—you see all his formulations—“and setting it into its condition by means of the connection, whereby the severed wire becomes one body with the electrical machine, there is concern here for building for two reasons: first, because of assembling the parts together. He connects all the parts of the circuit to one another. And the fact that it is loose does not help here. If the connection is loose, that is not called a connection—and here it makes no difference. Why? Since the electric current connects them, which is in the category of fastening. That is A. B: repairing the wire itself from death to life is building.” The wire itself turns from something dead into something alive, and that itself is called building.
Well then—how exactly are we to understand this strange thesis of the Chazon Ish? Again, many attacked it, questioned it, and in the end rejected it in Jewish law and did not feel the need to take his view into account. How can we actually understand the conception the Chazon Ish is offering here?
As I said before, we need to remember two things. First, the other views are also very problematic views. It is not as if they offer simple explanations—absolutely not. And in any case that only makes it rabbinic; according to the Chazon Ish, building is Torah-level. Second, the Chazon Ish nowhere writes that the building is actually the creation of the electric circuit itself. That is not the building he is talking about. He has formulations of giving form to matter, of breathing a spirit of life into the dead wire, repairing the wire itself from death to life, or “fastening” the current in the wire, some sort of fastening like that, or fastening the parts of the circuit together by passing the current. All sorts of strange statements that need to be defined better. None of these is the creation of the circuit itself. That is a myth; it does not exist in his writings.
Now I want to explain what, in my opinion, the Chazon Ish meant. After I understood this—the first hint I got from Rabbi Shapira, of blessed and righteous memory, who was the head of our kollel until two years ago—and he told me the basic reasoning. Then I thought about it and developed it a bit, built it up more, and in the end I became convinced that the Chazon Ish is super-logical, and in fact only he is logical. All the other approaches are very forced approaches. Maybe according to disputes here and there, maybe according to certain views you can prop something up here—but it is very, very forced and very, very remote. Precisely the Chazon Ish, in my eyes, is a spacious, logical view, and in my opinion it is the correct view regarding the prohibition of electricity—that is a major stringency, by the way, because it means it is a Torah-level prohibition.
To explain this, I’ll start now with the conceptual analysis. Rabbi Isser Zalman Meltzer, the author of Even HaEzel, wants to define the labor of building in Maimonides’ view. In Maimonides it appears as follows—these are the data. There are many difficulties that he solves this way; I won’t get into all the details, but the principle. The parent category of labor is of course to build a building, a structure—that is the parent. There are two kinds of derivatives of building in Maimonides. One derivative is a tent, making a tent, which is basically stretching some fabric above and creating a space like that; that is a derivative of building. And the second derivative is making cheese. Someone mentioned this earlier—I think Shlomo mentioned it earlier. Making cheese is also a derivative of building.
Now notice: making cheese is prohibited by Torah law. The Talmud says it is because of building—because of building. Meaning, it says it is because of building; not all the medieval authorities agree that it is Torah-level. In Maimonides it appears that it is Torah-level; it is a derivative of building. Rabbi Isser Zalman asks: what is the similarity between a tent and making cheese? Both are derivatives of building, but I see no similarity between them at all.
So he proposes the following brilliant structure, a wonderful conceptual analysis—and it resolves many difficulties that I cannot now go into in all their details. He wants to make the following claim. Let’s try to think: what does it mean to produce a building? Conceptual analysis: what does it mean to build? To build a building, a structure, a house. Meaning, I take bricks, plaster or concrete, build walls, a ceiling, a floor, and so on, and create a structure. What am I really doing here? I take parts—say bricks—gather them together, attach them to one another, turn them into one mass, and create some functional space. Through these parts that I consolidated, I created a functional space. That is the parent category. Meaning, the parent category of building is gathering parts in a way that creates a functional space. That is the definition of building a house.
Now he says like this: this parent category has two derivatives. Each derivative resembles it in one of the two parameters that characterize it. Creating a tent is creating a functional space—though not by gathering parts; it is not done by joining bricks—but still, you created a functional space here, perhaps even for habitation. Therefore it is a derivative of building. Why? Because there is creation of a functional space here, like building. But why is it only a derivative and not the full parent category? Because the gathering of parts is missing here; that parameter is absent, and therefore it is not the parent category but a derivative.
What happens in making cheese? Exactly the opposite. In making cheese, there is gathering of parts; you gather the parts of the cheese and create from the whole thing a structure. But inside that structure there is no space at all—functional or non-functional. It is a solid structure with no space in it. Therefore curdling cheese is a derivative of building. Why? It has gathering of parts, but it does not create a space, and therefore it is only a derivative.
Now notice the structure we have obtained—and this has many implications, and it solves all sorts of difficulties in Maimonides. There are some difficulties it doesn’t solve; the Kehillot Yaakov talks about this in section 37, but I won’t get into it now. The structure created here is a very interesting one, because usually a derivative—how do I determine that some derivative is a derivative of a given parent category? Through resemblance, right? The derivative resembles the parent category, and therefore it is its derivative. Now usually we are used to thinking that resemblance is a transitive relation. In mathematics, a transitive relation is a relation with the following property: if that relation exists between A and B, and that relation exists between B and C, then that relation exists between A and C. That is called a transitive relation. Okay? For example, the relation “younger than.” If B is younger than A and C is younger than B, then clearly C is younger than A, right? So “younger than” is a transitive relation. But “the son of” is not a transitive relation. If Isaac is the son of Abraham and Jacob is the son of Isaac, that does not mean Jacob is the son of Abraham; he is Abraham’s grandson, not his son. So “the son of” is not a transitive relation. There are transitive relations and non-transitive ones.
The relation of resemblance is usually perceived as transitive. If A resembles B and B resembles C, then presumably A resembles C too—maybe a bit less, but still resembles it. But here what bothered the Even HaEzel is that transitivity collapses. A tent does not resemble making cheese in any way. So how can they both be derivatives of building? A tent resembles building and making cheese resembles building, but a tent and making cheese resemble each other in nothing at all. So how can resemblance here be a non-transitive relation?
I’m just rephrasing Rabbi Isser Zalman’s move, yes? And then his move is the following: he claims that resemblance need not be transitive. Why? Because if there is a parent category with two features, A and B, and the first derivative has only feature A, then it resembles the parent category, right? Because both share A. The next derivative has only feature B and not A. It too resembles the parent category. But the first derivative and the second derivative resemble each other in nothing. The first has only A; the second has only B. There is no resemblance between them. But both resemble the parent category. There you have a logical structure that explains how one parent category can have two derivatives that do not resemble each other at all. That is a marvelous conceptual analysis, and with it he resolves a great many difficulties.
My problem with this conceptual analysis is that if I want to translate it into the question: which properties are essential to the labor of building? Which features must be present in an action in order for it to count as the parent category of building? So we said: it needs gathering of parts and creation of space. Now, how are these to be understood? Are both features essential? If so, then seemingly neither making cheese nor making a tent should be derivatives of building, because each lacks an essential feature. What would you say—that one of the features is essential and the other is a side condition? Say gathering of parts is the condition and creating space is the essential feature. According to that, then a tent should be a derivative, but making cheese should not, because it lacks the essential component; it has only a side condition. That is not enough to prohibit. Or the reverse: if you say gathering of parts is the essence and space is the condition, then only making cheese should be a derivative and not a tent. How can there be two features that are both essential to the parent category, and yet derivatives in which one essential feature is missing in each case, and nevertheless it is prohibited because it is sufficiently similar to the parent category? There is still something problematic here. You understand that this smuggles transitivity back in through the back door. I actually want to argue that resemblance really does need to be transitive, and that Rabbi Isser Zalman’s solution does not really solve the problem for us.
I want to claim the following. In fact, this is not the structure. I’m going with Rabbi Isser Zalman’s analysis, but the logic is not his logic. It is not that the parent category has two features and one of them appears in the derivatives. I claim that this parent category is one unit. What do I mean? The parent category of building, when I look at building a house, is really taking the collection of bricks and boards and glass and everything else I connect there, and turning it into one complete functional whole. Not “space”—a complete functional whole. That whole is called a structure, and that is the labor of building.
Now, what parts did I connect into this complete functional whole? I claim that it is not only the bricks and boards and glass. I claim it is also the parts of the space. In the end, when I use a house, I do not use the bricks; I use the functional space. The bricks around it turn the space into something functional. Therefore my claim is that creating space is not an additional feature of building. It is the same feature. Creating space and gathering parts are the same thing. Creating space is gathering the parts of the space into one large, complete, functional space. That is the claim.
And therefore I think that both making cheese and making a tent are derivatives from the same side. Both gather parts and create from them a complete functional whole. And therefore both are derivatives of building—not because each resembles building in a different parameter. There are not two parameters in building; there is only one parameter. That parameter is gathering parts into a complete functional whole. That’s all. And all the derivatives of building are what they must do: gather parts in a way that creates a complete functional whole. I claim that this happens in making cheese and it also happens in making a tent. I put fabric around, and that connected all the parts of the space into a functional structure, into a complete functional whole. Therefore it is a derivative. A derivative of building.
[Speaker B] But how in making cheese? I didn’t understand.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In making cheese I’m not gathering anything?
[Speaker B] I put the…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why not? Of course you are gathering. You gather all the parts of the cheese.
[Speaker B] No, I put the milk in one place; I didn’t gather anything.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You gather all the parts of the cheese into a structure. Of course you gather. That is really building.
[Speaker B] I didn’t do anything. I took cloth, put milk inside.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That doesn’t matter. You—it’s the way you connected the bricks to each other and created a structure. Even when I place bricks, I didn’t do anything. I put one brick, then I put concrete, then another brick, and afterward the concrete dried and they stuck to each other on their own. I didn’t do that. We always only prepare the ground; in the end nature does the final hammer blow, right, the completion of the matter. That is always true. So that is my claim.
Now, my example for this is basically—perhaps in more general language—I want to claim that the labor of building in practice means creating an organism. Not necessarily in the biological sense, but biology is a good illustration of the concept of organism. What is a biological organism? A biological organism is a collection of cells. But a corpse is also a collection of cells. A corpse too is composed of a collection of cells, but a corpse is not an organism. Why not? Because the collection of cells is not joined into a functional whole. In a living body, the collection of cells is like bricks that create a structure which is a functional whole; in that case its function is biological. It is a living structure, okay? This enlivening of the collection of cells turns that collection into a structure.
Therefore I claim, for example, that the Golem of Prague—if you were to insert the Divine Name into its mouth and breathe life into it—you would violate a Torah prohibition because of building, because you would be turning the collection of its molecules or atoms, its inanimate matter, into a functioning organic whole. That is literally the labor of building. It is true that the whole created by building a house or building is not a biological whole, but still conceptually it is obvious that the bricks from which I made the house lost their particular, individual significance. They were absorbed together, and what I now have is a complete functional whole. That is what I call an organism for the sake of this discussion. Not an organism in the biologists’ sense, but an organism in the sense that a complete functional whole has been created, and now there is no significance anymore to the individual components. The bricks, each one separately—there are no bricks here anymore. This collection of bricks is not a collection of bricks; it is a building. A building is not a collection of bricks. A corpse is a collection of cells; a living human being is not a collection of cells. A living human being is a person.
And therefore my claim is that the labor of building, by definition, quite apart from electricity right now—we are dealing with the labor of building as of the twelfth century in Maimonides, yes?—the labor of building means taking parts and creating from them a complete functional whole. Their “composite blending,” by the way—an expression that appears in the Chazon Ish. Yes, yes, in the column I wrote about this, someone commented that this is an example regarding collectives. I don’t have time to get into that here now. Maybe I’ll actually continue next time, because I see I’m not really going to finish. But if I leave it for next time, then I’ll speak about it a bit more.
In any case, my claim is that the definition of the labor of building is to take parts and produce from them a functioning complete functional whole. That is called the labor of building. And that is what happens in making cheese, that is what happens in making a tent, and that is what happens in building a house.
Now if you look at all the Chazon Ish’s expressions regarding electricity on the Sabbath, you will see that this is in fact what he meant. Right? Let’s remember what his expressions were. He awakens the wire from death to life. Therefore it is the labor of building. What does that mean? When no current passes through the wire, that wire is nothing but a collection of atoms, like the collection of cells in a corpse. When I run current through it, it becomes a living body. Functioning. It has a function. All those atoms that are there one… and therefore when you awaken the wire from death to life, that is the labor of building. I no longer need to add a word. After I defined the labor of building earlier, what more is there to add? There is nothing to add to what the Chazon Ish says. This is the most classic form of the labor of building imaginable. It is the parent category of building. It is more building than making cheese and more building than making a tent—it is literally the parent category of building.
And therefore he says that when you “fasten” the current in the wires, the meaning is not that this is fastening two things into each other. Rather, the meaning is that when the current is inside the wire, the flow of current in the wire connects all the atoms of the wire into one whole. And now they are considered connected. By the way, that is also an expression of the Chazon Ish’s: the Chazon Ish says that the parts of the circuit are considered connected to one another even though they are loose. Why? Because current flows through them. I asked, so what? Still, the connection is very loose; it can disconnect easily, and then there won’t be current either. Correct. The connection between the parts is not a physical connection. The connection between the parts is the functional connection. Once they are all parts of a functioning organism, they are considered connected. Once they are connected, I have created a structure here. And that too counts as building even in utensils. In such a case, even in utensils one is liable because of building. That is what the Chazon Ish means when he says one is liable because of building.
[Speaker B] How in utensils? What—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Did you hear?
[Speaker B] How does it become building in utensils?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I said: building a utensil from the outset.
[Speaker B] Or—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Or fastening—that too is building in utensils. Not according to Rashi and the Ran, but according to most of the medieval authorities. The Chazon Ish says: here this is no less than fastening, or building a utensil from the outset, or fastening. You are putting a soul into a body. So all the cells physically were already connected to each other before. But turning them into a functioning organic whole is a different kind of connection. The connection is not the physical connection between them. Rather, the fact that together they create an organic whole makes them functionally connected, not physically connected.
[Speaker B] So that’s what also happens in building. In making cheese, what the Rabbi is saying is that before I had milk dispersed around, and now I turned it into some kind of organic block that is functional, that I can eat.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct. And that also gets a different name. Before it was milk, or crumbs, and now it is cheese. Before it was stones, and now it is a structure. By the way, in the Talmud itself, when something has a certain name—for the Talmud that is an indication that there is something different about it. “Anything that has an accompanying name”—there are various sugyot in the Talmud that speak about this. If it receives another name, then that means it has now become something new.
And therefore I think the words of the Chazon Ish are a brilliant understanding of the labor of building, and in my eyes very convincing logically. The most correct explanation of the prohibition of electricity on the Sabbath, in my opinion, is the explanation of the Chazon Ish. This is basically the foundational conceptual analysis. What is building? What is an organism? What an organism is, I’ll get into a bit more in the next lesson, although I’ve also spoken about it a bit in the past. So part of the next lesson I’ll continue this. But let’s stop here. If anyone wants to comment or ask, that’s possible.
[Speaker D] If I may, regarding the view of Even HaEzel and regarding derivatives. The Rabbi basically assumed, in the way he refuted the view, that a derivative has to contain all the essential features of the parent category itself. Right. That’s an assumption—but is it necessarily true? What did I hear? Why assume that? Because if it’s not an essential feature—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If it is an essential feature and it is missing, then how can you prohibit it? After all, what does “essential feature” mean? An essential feature means that without it, it is not prohibited.
[Speaker D] The question is whether maybe, maybe one could say that what has all the essential features is the parent category itself, and derivatives are something that has one of the essential features?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then it’s not essential. Then even without that feature it is still prohibited by Torah law on the same level as the parent category. Because a derivative is prohibited exactly like the parent category. So in fact it is not an important feature at all. So why is it there? Why is it interesting? And what is the relation between the two features, if there are two? If neither of them matters, then how do both together become important? I don’t think you’ll be able to close that structure. That would really be the labor of building if you did that.
[Speaker D] Even though the Rabbi says that ostensibly the parent categories are prohibited on the same level as the derivatives, there isn’t really any superiority to the parent category apart from that.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. Now I’m asking: so what for? In order for it to be prohibited, does there need to be gathering of parts or not? Is that essential to the prohibition? If yes, then a tent should not be prohibited. Is space essential in order for there to be a prohibition of building? If yes, then making cheese should not be prohibited.
[Speaker D] Fine, the claim is that for it to be prohibited it is enough that there be one essential feature; there’s just a difference between derivative and parent category.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Which one? If each one of them—then they are two separate things. If they are two separate things, and each one by itself is enough to prohibit, then there should have been two different parent categories. One would be gathering parts and the second would be creating space. And not one parent category that is either this or that. Meaning, what connection is there between these two things? It’s like saying either the parent category of trapping or the parent category of cooking—make one parent category such that if you either trap or cook you violate it. What’s the connection between those two? Define them as two parent categories.
I elaborate on these things a bit more in the column. Maybe I’ll say a bit more next lesson; I’ll expand a little more. I thought we’d get to it today, but we didn’t finish. So next lesson I’ll sharpen the issue a little more. Thank you.
[Speaker B] Thank you very much. Have a peaceful Sabbath.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Enjoy your meal, have a peaceful Sabbath.
[Speaker B] Have a peaceful Sabbath. Have a peaceful Sabbath.