Because if I do something out of a motive, that says something different about me as a person. If I murder someone or kill him because I was forced to, what’s the difference? After all, the result is similar, no? But clearly there is a difference, because murderers should be treated differently. They’re also more dangerous. In practice there is a difference between a person who kills because he was obligated to and a person who murders. You have to relate differently to the person. It’s not only a matter of “pure” motive, but an actual difference in the person that can also lead to different outcomes in the future, and therefore we should treat him differently, shouldn’t we?

That is, one could argue that there is evolutionary benefit to someone who did not kill directly over someone who did kill directly, and that this is not just a matter of pure motive with no practical difference.

I completely lost you. If you want to discuss this, please present things in an orderly way (the case, my arguments, yours) and formulate your question clearly.

I’ll try to explain myself better.
What I understood from the trolley example is that, according to your claim, Dawkinsian morality should be measured by the test of outcome and not by the test of motive. Since in the end what matters is what happens, not what caused me to act. And if among most people there is a difference in their action because we’re dealing with a direct action or an indirect one, that is a sign that they have a category of morality that differs from the explanation of morality as outcome alone—rather, a morality in which motive is also important.
My question is whether the motive itself can also be seen as an “outcome.” That is, instead of seeing here only the outcome that five people are saved and one dies, versus five people dying but one person whom I did not kill directly, let us add to this consequentialist system also the fact that there is practical weight to my not killing someone directly (this contradicts what Dawkins says, that indirect harm should be identical to direct harm). In other words, the reason people see a difference between the cases and prefer not to kill someone directly even though that would save the other people is not because of purely moral motive, but מתוך an understanding that the motive itself also has an evolutionary reason, and that it really is preferable not to kill the person directly. I tried to explain that maybe evolutionarily this makes sense, because then people won’t see me as someone violent toward society, or for other reasons I don’t know. But the principle is that the motive itself can also be seen as an evolutionary reason, no?

You can hang anything on evolution, but that has no substance. There is no reason to think that evolution would create a human perception according to which letting five people be killed is preferable to killing one. Evolution is supposed to be consequentialist.
But beyond that, if evolution is the explanation, then there is no morality here but human nature—not an outcome-based explanation and not one of motive. So isn’t the whole discussion pointless?

It seems strange to me that this is not the first time the Rabbi does not remember things that he himself wrote or didn’t write. That’s something not usually found even in people’s idle chatter. All the more so this should not be the case with someone who formed his views in a unique way and on weighty subjects, especially since the book went through endless checks and proofreading, including by the author himself.

Is this a note in the diary? Should I bring in the parents?

A grade that needs improvement on the report card, or however you’d like to joke about it. The point is that he and everyone here take him very seriously, and he simply doesn’t remember what he himself said. Just an observation, as is customary here.

I thought a cynical remark would make clear to you the nonsense you wrote, but I see it didn’t. So apparently it needs more clarification.
At first glance I see two possibilities:
1. The absurd one on its face: that I really did forget. When one writes more than thirty books, hundreds of articles, hundreds of posts, thousands of answers and discussions (dozens every day), and gives dozens and hundreds of classes and lectures, maybe it happens that I forget a remark I wrote in one of the books six or seven years ago. As I said, absurd on its face, but still possible.
2. The more logical one: that I’m an idiot or suffering from advanced sclerosis.
If the first possibility is correct, then it seems to me that the second possibility (2a) is correct about you. And if the second possibility is correct, then you are probably tactless and extremely ungrateful. In both possibilities, your remark was pointless and unhelpful.
Now choose which of the two possibilities seems right to you.
Just an observation, as is customary here…

I didn’t understand who wrote the response; I thought it was some outsider, since I see it says “staff” (and it’s not clear why, then, it was written in the first person…). Also the wording is harsher and usually doesn’t match the Rabbi’s style, so at the very least the staff shouldn’t misuse his name. Usually he’s less touchy, if at all, and even likes hearing criticism of any kind. (See the case of the person who wrote about him that he is a heretic.) Therefore I allowed myself more leeway. In any case, regarding reading comprehension, I stick with option 2 that was offered here, because I emphasized that this happened several times, so what does it matter to say that we’re talking about a book from a few years ago. My friends and I have several times raised topics that the Rabbi himself said or wrote, and we had to remind him what was being discussed even though we were dealing with very central things in his books and words. By the way, not every comment has to have deep significance, just as one need not make philosophy out of every nonsense and investigate it and bring distinctions and learned analyses to it. All in all I wrote a legitimate remark to a person who receives criticism (and sometimes even likes it). If the response is from the Rabbi after all, then I apologize. If not, I think that staff member ought to apologize for slander….

So that you won’t catch me on the fact that I mentioned staff (as will presumably happen…) even though it’s always written that way. My intention was the English label that appears in the name, unlike the usual way, and therefore I inferred what I inferred.

Staff = mikyab = the Rabbi

I forgot. = mikyab123 = Michi

Okaaay, sorry for the things that caused such a blunt and unexpected response. I wrote what I wrote because I held Rabbi Michi in higher regard than that, and when I saw that you had forgotten details even in your most famous book (unlike in one-time lectures), I wondered about that and asked you about it. I thought the response would be more in the style of “this is a relatively marginal matter,” etc. (of course I didn’t know exactly the content, otherwise I wouldn’t have commented…). Instead, you answered in a way that only lowered my opinion of you even more. This is in addition to the fact that although you purport to prove everything empirically, many times you have conjectures with which you harshly criticize things despite the lack of even the slightest findings.
Not that it will hurt you, I assume, but as you often say, “I completely lost you,” so—forever. Thank you, you helped me, you occupied me and my mind; it was definitely a nice period.

And to Joseph he said—

When a person “kills himself” in order to provide quick responses to dozens of questioners who challenge him day in and day out with difficult questions in all areas of Torah and philosophy that weigh on the questioners—this should be appreciated, and gratitude should be shown to someone willing to listen, relate, and try to answer every questioner, including “the one who asks and asks again.”

It is obvious that at such a scale of responsiveness, and especially when the respondent is burdened with classes and lectures, study, research and writing, and commitments to family and community—there may certainly be situations in which the respondent does not always fully grasp the questioner’s intent, the answer will not always be at the same level of depth and thoroughness, the respondent will not always remember every detail of a topic he dealt with in the past, and he will not always have the patience to react with Stoic calm to every remark and argument.

A person working under such pressure is allowed to make mistakes, is also allowed not to remember (and it is good that he is not ashamed to admit that he does not know and does not remember), and is also allowed to admit that his patience has run out or that he is exhausted. After all, the participants here are not “followers” who do not move without the instruction of the local halakhic authority, but independent, opinionated, and critical people. If the respondent’s words quenched their thirst and resolved their doubts—so much the better. And if not—his words at least fertilized and challenged their thinking.

And even if not, and the questioner was not an “outcome,” he should at least appreciate the “motive” that led the respondent to try to answer.

Best regards, Shatz Lewinger

Yossi, you wrote: “Not that it will hurt you, I assume, but as you often say, ‘I completely lost you,’ so—forever. Thank you, you helped me, you occupied me and my mind; it was definitely a nice period.” That’s really a shame. The Rabbi’s door is always open to those who return. Sometimes the returnee needs to change his name, as brought in the books. If you want, just change your name and ask under a different one.

Yossi,
That really was both idiotic and nasty on your part.
The question here is about an example he brings in a book. Why should he have to remember every example he wrote a few years ago? People here read the book and ask questions as they go, and think he remembers every single word written there, but it should be obvious to anyone sensible that this won’t be the case. You can expect him to remember his central arguments, but not examples.
“All in all I wrote a legitimate remark to a person who receives criticism (and sometimes even likes it).” How exactly was that remark supposed to help him? Did you want to suggest he look at the end of the abbreviated Shulchan Arukh for advice on strengthening memory? Or that he go to a neurologist to check for early-onset Alzheimer’s? You present it as though you only lightly remarked to a person that he’s stupid, and don’t understand why he didn’t thank you for the remark.
And if you expected the answer to be “this is a relatively marginal matter” (as stated, we’re talking about an example, and an example is always marginal), then what was the point of the question?
And in the end you even make an offended face because you got a blunt response (which is fairly common)?!
I assume you wrote without thinking. So now all that remains is for you to understand that what you wrote was nasty (and also stupid, but that’s not such a grave sin) and apologize.

I already answered all these questions, and some of them I tried to preempt. As stated, this is only an example; this happened in many cases.
I didn’t know exactly how to phrase the answer, so I asked. Because notice the interesting part—that questions are the kind of thing where you don’t really know what they’ll answer you… I wanted to draw his attention to the seriousness with which he makes claims when afterward he simply forgets them. (It happens in important focal points too, again.) And as stated, this was mainly for me, since I corresponded with many fine people and did not find anyone who forgets this way and sometimes contradicts things he said (in my opinion that says something about the things themselves; one can argue about that). I wanted to reassure myself that I was taking very seriously and fully relying on a person who is really strong and solid in his views, when in the end the result was the opposite and only proved to me that there is a certain impulsiveness in his responses and words. The bluntness on his part was especially in a broad hint that basically called me an idiot and more… Maybe you didn’t make the effort to understand what you read before the lecture you gave me. In any case, I promise to try to improve…

I already explained to you that he didn’t forget the argument but the example.
When one asks a question one doesn’t know the answer, but you didn’t even do that. You said it seemed strange to you, full stop. Later too you said you were offering criticism. The claim that it was a question is an evasion of taking responsibility for what you did. Criticism is offered either to insult or to correct. But it seems you’re not saying you meant to send him to a neurologist (by the way, that could have been a pretty good excuse; I’m sure it hurts if someone tells you maybe you have early-onset Alzheimer’s, but it definitely could be good advice).
In any case, I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that you’ve lost trust in him, and now you’ll have to rely only on yourself.

I did not penetrate to the full depth of your profound understanding due to my ignorance. But I didn’t really understand what petty point you’re nitpicking about—the difference between puzzlement and a question? It seems you’re a devoted disciple if you analyze simple things that don’t require analysis. In any case, I’d suggest you stop dealing too much in small things (is that good advice in your eyes?). By the way, there are many other options to rely on; it’s not either me or him—there are other people in the galaxy.

Just to be precise, I can’t find anywhere in the galaxy anyone comparable to our great Rabbi Michi, whose worth cannot be measured in gold, and regarding whose sharp style one should apply the method: love covers all offenses.

Gil, you exaggerated a bit.
Who can compare, who can be likened, to “Torah-Man,” savior of the galaxy, whose mighty deeds and heroism are written every single Sabbath in the pamphlet Gilui Da’at.

Best regards, Shatz Hafinger

As for the problematic nature of “desire,” see Rabbi Michael Abraham’s column about the delicacy of the songs of the Land of Israel.

Just note that Michi = D = B = Yishai = many other commenters whom anyone slightly familiar with Michael Abraham’s style can identify quite clearly…
A new and interesting method (though not characteristic) of attacking commenters and supporting and defending things and views he wrote.

There’s nothing deep here. It just seemed that you didn’t understand why and to what extent you were in the wrong.
I think you didn’t understand my last remark. I think you think I was mocking you, that you should rely on yourself instead of on him. But not at all. It’s a very serious remark. He tries to educate people not to rely on others but to examine things themselves, and that of course includes not relying on him either.

Yishai is definitely not Michi, and I can easily find places where they really argued.
I admit that I am both B and D.

With God’s help, eve of the holy Sabbath, “and you shall rejoice before the Lord your God,” 5778

It is no novelty that everyone is identical to everyone else, for Rabbi Shneur Zalman, author of the Tanya, already taught us (Likkutei Amarim, chapter 32) that all Israel are “one soul in divided bodies.” And in fact these are the words of the Jerusalem Talmud, which explains the commandment “You shall not take vengeance nor bear a grudge”: if one hand injured the other hand, it would not occur to anyone that the injured hand should “take revenge” on the hand that injured it, for all is one organism.

How much more so when everyone comes with a shared aim: to understand deep matters in Torah and wisdom, where each person contributes his share to the common thinking. Such is the nature of shared analysis, that it is conducted with the fiery heat of Torah, and as the Sages described, a father and son, rabbi and student, who engage together in Torah and intensify in sharp argument, ultimately come to love, for each has renewed questions and proofs that led to new insights.

The very fact that people of differing opinions and differing temperaments meet and clash is what brings the heat of the argument—but this heat is a good heat 🙂

With blessings for a peaceful Sabbath and a good new month, Shatz Lewinger

I’ve been found out

Not fair! Why didn’t they identify me as Michi too?? Hello, someone up there?! I’m Michael Abraham too! I’m Michael Abraham too! We are one!!

As is known, contraction is not to be understood literally.
(The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)

From the words of mikyab123 that contraction is not to be understood literally (as in the Chabad approach), it follows that he is not Rabbi Michael Abraham, who is a known Lithuanian yeshiva-type and insists that contraction is literal and sharply rejects the Chabad position.

Best regards, Dr. Shatzius von Levinhausen, critic of reading comprehension

Wait, so am I Rabbi Michael Abraham or mikyab123?
I suggest calling the Lithuanian source E and the Hasidic one J.

And of course they were all given by one shepherd, the Master of all deeds…

It seems I’ve entered a group of “anonymous philosophers’ jokes” (or not anonymous—the identities here serve as a jumble…)

I always remain myself