Question

Hi Michi,
Now I’ve finally found a worthy pretext for presenting words of heresy under a suitably holy guise:
For quite a few weeks I’ve wanted to tell you that my criticism of libertarianism does not stem only from the fact that in the State of Israel, for the sake of our very existence, we are obligated to create a strong and cohesive society—a society in which the abilities of each individual are brought to full realization, a society all of whose parts, even if they are not Jews, feel that they belong to it. [Of course there will always be a few crazies.]
Rather, now, following several articles in "Shabbat" about Sabbath observance, an understanding has crystallized in me that has enabled me to broaden and sharpen the point:
Many observant Jews look for an experience of holiness. I assume you are not among them—[or perhaps I am mistaken?]
I am not claiming that I cannot feel a sense of awe of holiness, but I do not seek it out, and I always look for the rational basis of majesty and grandeur.
So what holiness can there be in a world where human beings know about the suffering and agony of others, but since the other person is not visible, the world just goes on as usual? How is this connected to my protest against libertarianism? If I understand the concept of libertarianism correctly, then it comes as an antithesis to socialism. Because the parameter of libertarianism is economic efficiency [did I understand that correctly?] But don’t think I don’t understand the rules of the game. For illustration: I come up with a technological idea and manage to prove its feasibility. Then people are persuaded and put up money for the R&D, and afterward for a production line. [For the moment let’s ignore the concern that someone else may have thought of a similar but different idea.] Great—I’ve brought employment to workers, engineers, and technicians, and then the product has to be marketed. There is no other choice anymore. When the shareholders are breathing down your neck, who cares then about some special salamander that happened to make its home in the spring from which water is drawn for the factory’s needs? And then there also comes the moment when the factory is moved to another country where wages are lower.
So maybe central planning isn’t such a bad thing after all, even if the standard of living is not high!
Do I need to tell you that cultivating expectations of buying a certain product is the main engine of the economy, and that these expectations have nothing whatsoever to do with hope, which is something on an entirely different scale?!
From television I got the impression that the Haredim, who live in straitened circumstances, do not feel degraded or miserable.
In closing, I apologize: maybe I’ve made one big mess and mixed together things that don’t belong together.
All the best