The Voice of Prophecy, Lesson 1

Table of Contents

• Hearing versus sight and intuitive perception
• Hebrew auditory logic as a "new, precise scientific discipline" and the meaning of precision
• The rejection of alternative logic and examples from geometry and the theory of relativity
• The unity of opposites, negative attributes, and the distinction between contraries and positive concepts
• The Thirteen Middot: between an arbitrary interpretive code and metaphysical meaning
• The division of the Talmud of Hebrew auditory logic: comparative and foundational-internal, middot and sefirot

Summary

General Overview

The lecture presents the basic thesis in “The Voice of Prophecy” by Rabbi Michael about “Hebrew logic” as an auditory and acoustic logic rather than an analytical and intuitive-visual one, and carefully explains what exactly “intuitive” means here and what in that notion is being rejected or retained. He argues that auditory perception is not some arbitrary feeling, but has the validity of evidence and proof of a different kind, and he warns against the mistaken interpretation that the Nazir is proposing an alternative logic that replaces the universal rules of inference. He lays out two mistaken extremes for understanding the Thirteen Middot—on one side, as alternative logical rules, and on the other, as an arbitrary interpretive code—and places the Nazir in a middle position, in which the middot are an interpretive tool with metaphysical significance because the Torah parallels the structure of the world. Finally, he presents the division of the “Talmud of Hebrew auditory logic” into two parts: a comparative one, set against Western logic, and a foundational-internal one, grounded in the sefirot.

Hearing versus sight and intuitive perception

The lecture continues from an earlier introduction about the difference between hearing and sight, and which of them more correctly conveys reality and the thing itself. He explains that sight is experienced as an immediate grasp of the thing itself, whereas hearing requires processing and translation in the mind and therefore is perceived more as a representation from which one has to reconstruct the thing itself. He defines two characteristics of intuition: immediacy and difficulty in explaining or proving it, and warns that the statement about Hebrew logic as “not intuitive-visual” uses only part of those meanings. He states that Hebrew logic is not an immediate visual perception, but a process of listening to hints and processing them; at the same time, it is not arbitrary subjectivity, but a valid way of becoming convinced of truths and adding knowledge.

Hebrew auditory logic as a “new, precise scientific discipline” and the meaning of precision

He quotes the “Opening Statement”: “Hebrew logic is auditory, not analytical; acoustic, not intuitive-visual,” and presents this as the core thesis of the book. He explains that “not analytical” does not deny thought, but rejects the usual sense of analysis as analytical proofs, and he also raises the possibility of a connection to the root related to “eye.” He interprets the word “precise” as ruling out an emotional approach in which everyone can say the opposite, and states that the Nazir does not mean mathematical precision or the proposal of some different mathematics. He formulates this “precision” as the claim that what is being said has binding meaning, so that when A is said there is no room to believe non-A in that same sense, and auditory logic is an acceptable path to proof in another sense.

The rejection of alternative logic and examples from geometry and the theory of relativity

He argues that it is hard to accept an interpretation according to which the Nazir is proposing different logical rules in the ordinary sense of logic, because the rules of logic are understood as universal, and different logics would prevent communication and mutual understanding. He illustrates this through Euclidean and non-Euclidean geometry: this is not a dispute over truth versus falsehood, but a description of different spaces, and he explains that non-Euclidean geometry describes curved space, such as the surface of a sphere, where the sum of the angles in a triangle is not necessarily one hundred and eighty degrees. He then gives an example from the theory of relativity, where different forms of description and different coordinate systems are meant to ensure that the laws come out the same, and transformation rules explain the differences in description without making truth into something arbitrarily relative. He concludes that attempts to use these examples to argue that “everything is relative” actually lead to the opposite conclusion, and from this it follows that proposing an “alternative basic logic” at the level of fundamental inference is absurd.

The unity of opposites, negative attributes, and the distinction between contraries and positive concepts

He rejects a simplistic understanding of the unity of opposites and notes that the unity of opposites was not invented by Rabbi Kook, but by Christian thinkers in the Middle Ages, mentioning Nicholas of Cusa, who wrote a book called The Unity of Opposites. He formulates a rule according to which a unity of opposites can exist between two positive concepts, but not between a positive concept and its negation, and he demonstrates that a statement like “not matter and not spirit” wrongly assumes that matter and spirit are opposites. He argues that the esoteric tradition protests against the doctrine of negative attributes and presents a position according to which attributes are positive and not negative, referring to examples associated with Maimonides such as “living” versus “dead.” He clarifies that hearing something that appears contradictory can be useful without accepting both “like this” and “not like this” in the same sense, and that anyone who formulates such an acceptance is not speaking in the ordinary language of logic.

The Thirteen Middot: between an arbitrary interpretive code and metaphysical meaning

He presents the possibility of seeing the Thirteen Middot as an axiomatic system or as rules for reading a text determined by the author, similar to a code key for deciphering a message, and argues that this is a reductionist approach common among rationalist medieval authorities (Rishonim). He says that the Nazir comes to reject that approach, but also not to reach the other extreme of replacing ordinary logic. He formulates the Nazir’s intention as follows: the Thirteen Middot are indeed rules for interpreting the Torah, but because the Torah is a “reflection, or blueprint, or logos,” and the “inner rhythm of the world,” the internal relations within the text have significance in reality and not only in interpretation. He adds that the Thirteen Middot hint at philosophical ways of laying out ideas in the world, and not only at deriving Jewish law, while insisting that using the middot presupposes the basic laws of logic and does not operate on a level that cancels them. He sums up his own position by saying that the Nazir’s claim sits in the middle: not mere interpretive arbitrariness, and not alternative analytical logic, but a philosophical mode of looking at things built on top of logic.

The division of the Talmud of auditory logic: comparative and foundational-internal, middot and sefirot

He quotes that the new discipline is the “Talmud of Hebrew auditory logic” and explains that it is divided into two parts “according to the function and spirit of the logic.” He defines one part as “the general Semitic logic embodied in the middot by which the Torah is expounded,” in comparison with Western analytical Greek and Stoic logic and with the “new logic,” and he notes that in his view the main point is the new logic, which will be defined later. He defines the second part as “the foundational Semitic logic embodied in the sefirot of the inner Hebrew wisdom in Israel,” and formulates this by saying that the ABCs of secret logic are the sefirot, and perhaps also the thirty-two middot. He connects this to the “thirty-two paths of wisdom” as the twenty-two letters and ten sefirot, as appears in Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai in the Idra Zuta, and he concludes with a note that a few minutes of the lecture are missing—our apologies.

Lag BaOmer, second lecture in “The Voice of Prophecy” by Rabbi Michael. Okay, last time we gave some introduction about the difference between hearing and seeing, and which of them more accurately conveys reality, the thing itself. Now we’ll move on to what he calls the “opening statement,” the introduction. We’ll also talk at length about the virtue of the method, the verse from Psalms with which we opened the previous discussion, but let’s move a bit into the actual substance. Here again he basically lays out, in schematic form, the main claims in general terms. This is really one claim, the first sentence: Hebrew logic is auditory, not speculative; acoustic, not intuitive-visual contemplative. That’s really the essence of the matter, and of course it requires explanation—what do all these expressions mean—but this is the central sentence, what presents the main thesis of the book.

“Intuitive” can really be understood in two senses, or rather intuition has two characteristics—maybe that’s the more accurate way to put it. One is that it’s something that comes immediately. Meaning, when I look at something, an intuition immediately arises in me. Usually, at least, intuition is treated as some kind of view that comes instantly, not after analysis, not after deep examination. And besides that, it’s usually something I don’t know how to justify. It’s an intuition; I don’t know how to prove it. Right? That’s the second characteristic. Of course the two characteristics are connected, and I think that here he uses the concept of intuition only in a partial sense, because I don’t think he means—or actually, we’ll soon see. As for immediacy, that I think is what he means. That is, Hebrew logic is not intuitive-visual. Looking is something somehow more immediate. I immediately see what’s going on. Hearing requires some kind of processing before it reaches me and before I decode what I want. As opposed to seeing—someone might say that physiologically seeing also undergoes processing—but the feeling is somehow that seeing is immediate perception: I saw, I know what’s happening. By contrast, hearing is something that requires translation in the brain. And that’s why what we spoke about last time happens: hearing is perceived as a representation and not as the thing itself. Because now I have to strip away the representation and try to reconstruct the thing itself from what I heard. Unlike seeing, where I know immediately—immediately it’s the thing itself.

And is it the opposite of speculative too? What? He says on the one hand that it’s not speculative, and on the other hand the Rabbi explains that it’s not something you grasp immediately but something that… It’s not the thing you immediately see, but something you need to solve, it’s not something that you… No, no, so I’ll get to that in a second. That’s why I said that when he uses “intuitive” here, I think he means it only partially when he says it’s not intuitive. That is, he means to say that Hebrew logic is not something received immediately, but like hearing—that is, not like seeing but something that… maybe even in both senses. Meaning, it’s not immediate—it takes some processing time. It’s not some direct grasp of the thing as it appears to the eyes, as it is perceived, but something where the thing sends us hints and we hear them in its language and try to process them and understand what lies behind them.

But the second characteristic of intuition is that we basically don’t know how to justify it. We have a feeling that it’s right, but we can’t justify it. Systematic thinking is exactly the opposite—at least that’s how we perceive it—the exact opposite of intuition. That is, intuition is some direct feeling of what is right, not through arguments and organized analysis leading to conclusions. Now here we need to be a bit more careful in interpreting the statement that Hebrew logic is not intuitive, because he does speak… he does speak, in fact, about some kind of perception that is not based on proofs. But all along—and we’ll see this immediately in the coming paragraphs—he means to emphasize precisely this aspect: that on the other hand, this perception is not arbitrary. Meaning, it is a kind of proof—just a different kind. In other words, don’t treat it as something totally subjective where everyone can say whatever they want, just gut feelings; rather it is something that carries the weight of evidence, the weight of proof. It is simply a different mode of proof.

So maybe that’s what he means here when he says “not intuitive,” because in many ways the logic he’s talking about actually is intuitive logic. But it’s intuitive logic in the sense that it does not try to take our intuition—because usually how do we use intuition? Say, in science. What do we do? We look at some phenomenon or collection of phenomena, and intuitively we try to think: wait a second, what’s really the main issue here? What causes them? What unifies them? Depends on the problem facing the researcher. After he has an intuition, he tries to analyze it, formulate it, define it systematically, with premises, conclusions, and rules that follow from it. So in that sense I think he means the same thing in his own context. That is, we don’t make do with some feeling; we also try to formulate that feeling. But that feeling has validity. Meaning, I don’t think he denies the evidentiary validity we give to that inner feeling of ours, what we usually call intuition. Quite the opposite—I think one of the things he points to most strongly is precisely that, and we’ll see this later.

“A great principle determines the character of Hebrew wisdom”—so here he is referring to both levels? Yes, but only partially. Meaning, what we call intuition, or some feeling that something is true, is not denied by him in the sense that Hebrew logic is not intuitive. He says not intuitive-visual. Meaning, there are those characteristics of intuition that can be called visual, and that—no. Meaning, it’s not the immediacy of intuition and it’s not the analytic grounding of intuition, but it is an attempt to understand the intuition. Meaning, not just to absorb the intuition; afterward we need to process it, understand it, or actually listen to it. Acoustics, acoustic—that means heard. Acoustic but not intuitive, huh? The same? Auditory is not speculative. Acoustic, not intuitive-visual contemplative, right? Speculative—again, here too, speculative. I think here too he means exactly the same thing. Meaning, it’s not speculative in the sense in which the world commonly uses “speculative.” In other words, it’s not something based on proofs, on analytic thought—what the world calls study or speculation. But it is definitely one of his claims that this is still thinking. We’ll soon see that he even calls it precise, and we’ll have to understand in what sense.

Speculative? What? Maybe here he means visual, from the sense of eye. Could be. Well, that’s not really different. Yes, true. It’s not even different; it’s just a nice observation about the shared root. Yes, true. I think in terms of his intent, that’s what he means, but the explanation is still what I said, I think. Only yes, “speculative” is from the word for eye.

“A great principle determines the character of Hebrew wisdom and gives a key to the spirit of the Hebrew secret. It is possible to know, to make known, and to become known in a new, precise field of knowledge: the study of Hebrew auditory logic.” Again, the word “precise”—what does “precise” mean? Again, this is certainly not precise in the mathematical sense; he doesn’t mean that. And we’ll see that a great many of his interpreters today—in recent years, we spoke a bit about the renewed interest in his writings, and many people are writing about it—I think many of those I’ve seen, at least, misunderstand what he means.

Maybe because he relies heavily on the thirteen hermeneutic principles by which the Torah is expounded, and on how for him this counts as the alphabet of auditory logic, Hebrew logic. He writes this in several places, and here too he discusses the principles later on, and in the second volume devoted to the subject. So there are quite a few people who understand him there as basically proposing an alternative logic. That is, in the same sense of what we usually call logic—logical rules—but different rules. And that’s something very hard, very hard to accept. It’s very tempting and it sounds as though we have something unique and different and now at last we’ve reached the root. I don’t believe he really means that, and I think we’ll also see later that he says this. Regular logic—I don’t think anyone is trying to replace it. I don’t think the Nazir means to propose an alternative logic in the usual sense in which we speak.

In that too he is right. What? Wait, we’ll soon see. No one, no one, no one claims, say, that the law of non-contradiction is false, or the regular laws of deduction that we know, the ordinary logical inferences, that these are not valid inferences. I do not believe the Nazir meant to claim that those are not valid inferences. I think later on we’ll better understand what he did mean, but in just a few words: I think he means to say that there is another concept of logic. It’s not the same logic; it simply has different rules. Like, for example, in mathematics: there is Euclidean geometry and non-Euclidean geometry. The two geometries both claim to describe the same thing, except that the assumptions are different. You can believe in Euclidean geometry, you can believe in non-Euclidean geometry, and each one is a geometry—two competing geometries.

That’s not what the Nazir means. The Nazir, I don’t think, means to say that Euclidean geometry is not correct—and no sane human being on earth, in my opinion, means to say that. Except for a few mathematicians who have lost their bearings a bit. There is a difference between proposing some consistent mathematical system as an intellectual exercise and claiming that it is valid in itself and maybe can even describe another reality. But there is no dispute between these two geometries. They are not two different belief systems arguing with each other. If we are speaking of the same concept of geometry, then we would all also accept the content of geometry. This is something mathematicians often aren’t so aware of, I think, but philosophically it is certainly true, and I think each of us, if we tries a bit to detach, would feel that way too.

And specifically regarding Euclidean and non-Euclidean geometries: non-Euclidean geometry means geometries that do not accept some of Euclid’s assumptions, of conventional geometry—for example, that two parallel lines can in fact meet. Two parallel lines can meet; they can produce triangles whose angle sum is not one hundred and eighty degrees. Any sum you give me can be produced, no problem. You just have to arrange the assumptions accordingly. Now, does anyone really believe that in this world the sum of the angles in a triangle is not one hundred and eighty degrees? That’s not a serious claim.

What one ultimately finds as the proper relation to non-Euclidean geometry is that this geometry actually describes curved space. Since this is a good example and people always wave it around, we need to understand what it means. Curved space means, for example, if you live on the surface of a sphere, then you’ll discover that when you draw a triangle on the sphere’s surface, the sum of its angles really won’t be one hundred and eighty degrees. Now, you don’t always see that you’re on the surface of a sphere. Because some small creature located somewhere on the surface of a sphere doesn’t know. Actually, I don’t even need a small creature—we all live on the surface of a sphere, and none of us would ever have imagined, were it not for various discoveries made throughout history, that this sphere is round. We would all look around and never have guessed that it’s round. But it is perfectly clear that when I discover a place where the sum of the angles in a triangle is not one hundred and eighty degrees, then I am living on a round sphere and not on a sheet of paper. Meaning, there is no dispute between the two geometries. Euclidean geometry describes life on a flat surface, and non-Euclidean geometry describes life on a curved surface. And you may not always be aware of this; sometimes to your eyes the straight line is actually a line like this. There are all sorts of such geometries; it depends on the structure of space. So when you draw the straight line, or what is called the geodesic line, from our point of view it looks like a line like this. But you understand that once this is understood, it’s obvious that there is no argument over who is right, Euclidean geometry or non-Euclidean geometry. The whole point is only: what kind of space are you talking about? If you’re talking about flat space, then the geometry is Euclidean. If you’re talking about curved space, then the geometry is non-Euclidean.

So in fact this whole discussion only proves that all attempts to become relativistic will always lead you back to the same point. Exactly the same thing as in the theory of relativity. In relativity too, people always say: look, every frame sees length differently, or measures time at a different rate. So this proves that everything is relative and everyone can do whatever he wants. And of course it’s exactly the opposite. Relativity was created—and that is its very definition—it describes all the laws differently from different frames, all the forms of observation differently from different frames, precisely so that the laws come out the same. In other words, suppose there is a certain point, some coordinates, and there is a point like this—say someone is looking at a rotated coordinate system. This is his X and this is his Y, okay? Then obviously the coordinates in this system will be different from those in that system, right? Here you’ll get X equals two and Y equals four, say, and there you’ll get X equals four and Y equals one, fine? So in fact it comes out differently. Is that a dispute? Obviously not—quite the opposite. That’s exactly why we draw the coordinate system this way. If it were a dispute, we’d have to draw them parallel and still get different results. Meaning, I set up the same coordinate system and get different results—then it would be a sign that everything depends on you, however you want, that’s how you’ll see the coordinates. But that is exactly not true.

That is, I have transformation rules for moving from this system to that system, and I know exactly why he sees differently from me. He sees differently from me because he placed the coordinate system differently. In other words, the other forms of description—say one form of description of this point is this thing, and another form of description is that thing, okay? Those are different forms of description, but their whole content is that they point to the same point. That’s not a dispute. Exactly the same applies to Euclidean and non-Euclidean geometry. Their whole difference derives exactly from the fact that they are looking at different worlds. But someone looking at the same world won’t argue. And therefore these are usually two classic examples that people always bring in order to show that everything is relative and everyone can decide whatever he wants. But I think that anyone who reflects a bit on these examples discovers exactly the opposite.

So if we return to our subject, we are on an even more primitive, more primal level of thought. We are still in logic, even before geometry and physics; we are in logic, meaning the basic tools of our thinking. To say that there are alternatives there is outrageous. That is, to say that some people will use one logic and some people will use another logic is simply absurd. They also won’t be able to talk to each other, so there’d be no point even in publishing your conclusions. The other person simply wouldn’t understand what’s happening. After all, he works with a different kind of logic.

There really is no second kind of logic. Exactly. Meaning, the very idea that there is some basic thing that we use to think, and that it has some meaning at all, says that there is some level shared by all of us. And therefore I cannot accept the interpretation—which for some reason is widespread—that what the Nazir means is to propose different logical rules, simply different logical rules. Such a thing cannot be. In the accepted senses of logic, the rules of logic are universal. I do not think he disputes this.

Maybe he claims that some of the doubts people have in their intellect are a certain conception, that what is not logical seems to him to have content, and that is exactly the point. The question is whether you really think the Nazir would come here and if you told him: tell me, if all ravens are black and Yankele is a raven, then Yankele is black—would the Nazir say that you are wrong? Because it’s more accurate to revolve around not only the principle of contradiction. What do you mean? I’m talking—he himself also talks about logic, about deductive logic. Plain ordinary reasoning is something else. If I understand this, then that’s not it—that’s the point. What? If I understand this, then that’s not it? Exactly, and if the Nazir understood it, then it’s not that either. He too was a human being like you. So that is precisely my claim.

Like the esoteric tradition, or say the doctrine of the unity of opposites and all that—it becomes some kind of mysterious thing that isn’t understood. There too, by the way, I have a long-standing argument with the people of the doctrine of the unity of opposites. The unity of opposites, by the way, was not invented by Rabbi Kook; Christian thinkers in the Middle Ages invented it, and Nicholas of Cusa wrote a book called The Unity of Opposites. And I think one has to know how to read it and understand it, and we can discuss that separately. I do not believe in a unity of opposites in the simple sense; one has to know how. If there really were a unity of opposites, then when I bring you a proof by contradiction in learning, you shouldn’t have to accept it. Did Rabbi Kook not accept proof by contradiction in learning? Is that a different level? Is it true or not true? What do you mean “a different level”? We’re talking about logic. Is it a valid rule that if I proved to you not-A, then you cannot accept yes-A? Is that a valid rule or not? If you accept that it’s a valid rule, then that’s the rule we work with. Now we need to understand how one deals with contradictions, what the meaning of the unity of opposites is, if it has a meaning. We’ll talk about that another time.

What? Is there room? “There is room” is already a statement that one has to know how to interpret, but it is not a statement that contradicts simple logic. Dialectic too—a process of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis—is not something spoken by people who don’t believe in logic. It’s a terrible thing to present it that way; it sounds very impressive, as though we have an alternative and we don’t accept everything the gentiles say and we’re on top, from Mount Sinai we received something else. It’s not exactly like that. You have to know how—I do believe in this. Again, I think it’s simply true, but one has to know how to read this whole matter of the doctrine of opposites, and that is a whole topic in itself. Hopefully we’ll get to it one day. But yes.

The Shelah HaKadosh, to whom he himself refers, are these logical difficulties or are they in fact perceived as anti-logical in the original sense of the word? I’m just now getting exactly to that. Now I’m getting exactly to that. Don’t forget also the connection of the opposites again—that is, the thought that there is a relation to opposites and not really between chapter one and chapter two. Fine, it may be that when you listen to an opposition you still receive something. Meaning, it’s not a vacuum. We’re already moving into broader discussions about the unity of opposites. When you listen to something that is apparently the opposite, you can still derive something useful from it. Meaning, it’s not something you should simply throw away, put in the trash, and move on. But that still doesn’t mean that you adopt the opposition as it stands, that you believe on the one hand that it is so and on the other hand that it is not so at the same time. Someone who says that is not speaking my language; I don’t know what to do with him. Maybe he believes it, I don’t know. I simply do not understand the sentence.

Yes. Neither this nor the opposite. Neither this nor the opposite? Then it does not exist. What? Then it does not exist. That’s not true. Why? In relation to the Holy One, blessed be He, for example. Not material and not spirit. You’ve already decided that material is the opposite of spirit. And that indeed is a mistake. That’s exactly the point. There is—that is exactly the point of the unity of opposites, really. The challenge to the determination that two things that appear to you as opposites are in fact opposites. They are not opposites. There is another spectrum you didn’t notice exists, because usually it is not revealed to your eyes. If you say He is not material and not non-material, that I will not accept. Do you understand? Whenever there is a unity of opposites, it will always be between two positive concepts, iron rule, always. Meaning, whenever you want to unite two things—sorry, not unite but the opposite—you say He is not material and not spirit; but you will never say He is not material and not non-material. Because not-non-material is material, there is no other meaning to it.

Yes. We say that all the attributes of the Holy One, blessed be He, are only there so as not to say the opposite, but are they not true in themselves? Meaning, I don’t say that He is wise because He is wise, but because He is not foolish? I don’t say He is wise because He is wise—I don’t know what Maimonides said—but I certainly do say He is wise because He is wise. It’s just that all of Maimonides’ examples are like saying He is alive—not because He is alive as we are, but in order to exclude the possibility that He is dead. I don’t know, we’d need to check again: alive and dead, and not alive and not-not-alive, and so we could go back there again. Maybe that was the intention. I think that when one says He is alive, one means that He is alive—but not… that’s another matter. I think the attributes are positive attributes, not—I didn’t invent this. The entire esoteric tradition basically rises up against the doctrine of negative attributes. The attributes are positive, not negative.

Anyway, let’s get back—I don’t… every little thing will drag us into another discussion, an entire discussion, and I don’t… Let’s just continue for a moment with this point. On the other hand, if we take the thirteen hermeneutic principles by which the Torah is expounded, then one could relate to them—well, if this is not alternative logic, and notice that many times people don’t distinguish between these concepts, but they are different concepts, and I think both are wrong—so it is not alternative logic, but perhaps let’s call it an axiomatic system. Meaning, when the Holy One, blessed be He, gave us the Torah, He gave us with it rules of interpretation, or halakhic inferential rules, however we want to call them. And these inferential rules do not necessarily represent any logic whatsoever. But what’s the problem? In principle, I don’t see any problem with my handing you some text, one page or two pages, and telling you what rules to use in reading it. That does not contradict logic at all. That is, if I tell you, for example—let’s go back again to the geometry example. Leave curved space aside for a moment—flat space. We can all learn how to use the rules of non-Euclidean geometry and use them well, without believing that they describe the world.

But one can formulate rational systems based on a certain set of assumptions and rules, rules for using those assumptions, without committing to their universality. Meaning, not to call it some basic, alternative logic and so on, but the opposite: perhaps this is a very narrow sense. That is, these are really rules for reading a text, and these are the rules set by the author, for reasons of his own, and we use these rules to read the text. A logic like that? No, no, no. I’m saying that’s a second possibility for understanding the role of the thirteen principles. And indeed there are many others who understand the thirteen principles this way. I think nobody means to say that this is what the Nazir is saying; everyone understands that the Nazir comes to reject that. But I don’t think he goes in the earlier direction either. We’ll soon see which direction he does go in.

But yes, there is such a conception. I think there are formulations like this that actually appear—maybe even among the medieval authorities (Rishonim), if I’m not mistaken about the source at the moment—but it is a very widespread conception, which says that these inferences really are… that is, logic—Aven Bajja, I think he even mentions on the next page several medieval authorities (Rishonim) whom it seems probably intended to relate to it this way. And this is basically a set of rules, and every author has the right to determine by what rules you will decode the text he gives you. That is, it is arbitrary. If he decides to establish certain codes—like a code, yes. If I send you something written in a given code, I’ll give you the key to the code and then you’ll decode what I sent you. That is not alternative logic. It is exactly the opposite: it is something very narrow, which really has no significance, because what difference does it make? I chose to encode it this way.

Yes, there are those who believe things are encoded through all sorts of skips in the Torah. Fine, so there is some code of skips, and that is how the Holy One, blessed be He, chose to conceal information in this text. This is not something that is supposed to have any significance. I’m not supposed to learn anything from it, except to use this device because that is what the Holy One, blessed be He, told me. That is, this is the device by which you decode. This is a completely opposite conception. The previous conception is the biggest possible conception; this one is the smallest possible conception. Meaning, it is basically some collection of rules with no significance whatsoever—although they do provide the correct way to interpret this text. And this is a tendency among many of the rationalist medieval authorities (Rishonim), let’s call them, in how they understand the thirteen principles.

And our logic has no significance at all? Meaning, that’s how we understand it? That’s a difficult question. I believe it does have significance, and there are those who think the question itself is meaningless. Because meaning is always formulated by means of the logic we have. So to ask whether this has logic—the analytic philosopher will tell you that this is a meaningless question. I think he is wrong, but I think the answer is that it does have significance. But again, I certainly can’t prove that. If I could prove it, then it would just enter as another rule within our own logic. Right?

In any event, that is why it is clear that the Nazir is coming to reject this approach. That is, this approach certainly is not the correct understanding of the thirteen principles. But rejecting this approach does not necessarily have to bring us all the way to the opposite extreme that we presented earlier. I think what the Nazir means to say is that the thirteen principles are indeed rules for interpreting the Torah, but since the Torah is some kind of reflection, or blueprint, or logos, and in that sense the logos we spoke about in the introduction that is fixed within the world—the inner rhythm of the world, the structure according to which the world operates, the genetic code as Rabbi Blumentzweig said yesterday—that is exactly this concept. So in fact this has significance beyond a merely interpretive tool. That is, true, the conception is correct—it is an interpretive tool; I could perhaps have formulated another interpretive tool, as with any other text. But in this case, since this text dictates, or parallels, or determines the structure of the world as well, or also encodes the structure of the world, then clearly the inner relationships within this text have significance in reality. And therefore the thirteen principles hint to us at all kinds of philosophical ways of laying out ideas in the world, not only of interpreting the Torah. That, I think, is what the Nazir means to say.

He does not mean to say that this replaces ordinary logic; it is not on that level at all. The thirteen principles are not rules operating on that level at all. Rather, the thirteen principles presuppose Aristotelian logic—not Aristotelian logic, simple human logic, yes. If you don’t know that, then you can’t use the thirteen principles either. If something comes out for me through an argument from a prototype case, can I then also say the opposite, because there’s no contradiction here? I can say this, I can say the opposite, and everything is fine? There is no such thing. Even the use of the thirteen principles presupposes the basic laws of logic. Therefore we are talking about a level one step above—not above perhaps, but another level, yes.

So why do we call it the thirteen principles? What? We’ll soon see—maybe I haven’t read it yet—“given in the principles by which the Torah is expounded.” That—this is the code of the second logic. That’s it. That’s its tool. That is his main determination. And I think this is the Nazir’s main innovation: that the thirteen principles are rules that are some kind of building blocks of another logic, what he calls another logic. And in a certain sense, what we said earlier—we have to understand what “another logic” means, but that is the basic claim. It’s not just some tool, just interpretation as you say, for extracting a few laws. It’s not something narrow. Exactly—and that is exactly the claim, and exactly what I’m trying to do now. I’m trying to formulate the central claim the Nazir is making, and this is one of his central claims in general. But these passages—this is what they are talking about. That is, the Nazir comes precisely to reject that conception, namely the idea that this is some tool for extracting a few laws or some arbitrary interpretive tool for a text that could just as well have been otherwise. He claims that these are building blocks in a different logic.

Why not call it an alternative logic rather than a different logic? I don’t know whether something like that can be proved, but one can try to persuade, or show, that there are such things. And it’s hard to believe—I don’t see how one proves such a claim. That is, to prove auditoryness by an auditory path. Therefore I think that in fact we have to understand the Nazir’s claim as situated somewhere in the middle between those two extremes. That is, it comes to reject the idea that this is just some set of random and arbitrary interpretive rules, but it does not go so far as to uproot the logic accepted in the world—the logical rules, I mean the most rigid analytic rules. I do not mean what the world perceives as reasonable—that perhaps it definitely does challenge. These are more philosophical rules than logical ones in our contemporary sense. That is, it is a way of looking at the world, but a way of looking at the world that does not come to negate logic; rather it presupposes logic. That is, you cannot do without it. There is, well…

“The study of Hebrew auditory logic”—that is the exact new name. So what is “precise”? We began with the discussion of what “precise” means. I also commented on it earlier. “Precise,” in my opinion, when the Nazir says “precise,” means: don’t think this is emotion. It is not emotion, where everyone can want whatever he wants. No—these things too have some meaning, and in a certain sense, when I say something, even if it is auditory, statement A, you cannot believe in not-A. Meaning, it says that it is true. Not that this is just my opinion and your opinion can be the opposite and everyone does whatever he wants, as with expressing feelings. I think that is what he means when he says “precise.” That is, he does not mean that there is some alternative mathematics here, as we said earlier. He has no other mathematics. And it’s not only not another mathematics; it’s not mathematics at all. He is not presenting a mathematical approach here. So it is not precise in that sense. It is precise in the sense that the claim we are making is not some feeling that can be either attended to or ignored and everyone can say whatever he likes. This claim has meaning and one must relate to it, and it is a valid way of arriving at truths, of adding knowledge.

I understand that some of you here—I hope some of you are already being reminded of the distinctions we discussed between analytic and synthetic, and it is obviously the same thing. Maybe we’ll get to that later. So this study of Hebrew auditory logic is divided into two parts according to the role and spirit of logic. The general Semitic logic given in the principles by which the Torah is expounded, in comparison with the Western speculative Greek and Stoic logic, and the new logic—and in my opinion, the main thing is the new logic; we’ll see this later. Later on he defines what the new logic is, so I won’t dwell on it here. And the foundational Semitic logic given in the sefirot of the inner Hebrew wisdom in Israel.

That is, there are two parts to this wisdom, to this field. One part is this. And the second part is the foundational Semitic logic given in the sefirot of the inner wisdom. The ABC of the secret logic is basically the sefirot, you could say. The sefirot and perhaps the thirty-two principles—the sefirot and the letters—as this appears in Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. In the Idra Zuta he brings the thirty-two paths of wisdom: the twenty-two letters and the ten sefirot. Those are basically the building blocks of what he here calls the esoteric aspect of Hebrew logic. These are two faces; it’s not…

There are a few minutes missing from the lecture—our apologies.