THE POWER TO SAY “YES”, "NO"--AND "BETTER NOT"

Pirkei Avot opens with a recital of how the Torah was passed down from Moses on Har Sinai to the Anshei Knesset HaGadolah (the Men of the Great Assembly), who kick-started the real content of Avot—mussar and middot—with three foundational teachings:

הֱווּ מְתוּנִים בַּדִּין, וְהַעֲמִֽידוּ תַּלְמִידִים הַרְבֵּה, וַעֲשׂוּ סְיָג לַתּוֹרָה

Be deliberate in judgement, and establish many pupils, and make a fence around the Torah.

To be מְתוּנִים בַּדִּין (metunim badin, deliberate—or careful—in judgement) was traditionally seen as advice given by judges, since the Great Assembly served as a sort of Supreme Court, to judges.

More recently, this teaching has been given wider scope. After all, we all act as judges, in an informal extrajudicial manner, when evaluating and assessing the behaviour and the worth of our friends, our families and even ourselves. An interesting example of this can be found in Ruchi Koval’s Soul Purpose (a recent Mosaica publication that has the look and feel of an inspirational “women-for-women” text but has plenty to offer men too). After pointing out that our personal judgements can affect others, Koval writes:

“As a parent, I find it so much easier to say “no” than “yes”, so I really have to work on myself to check that urge. Usually the easiest thing is to strike down someone else’s idea, but we need to be more measured than that. Are we saying no because it’s the path of least resistance? Because we are protecting ourselves? Or because it is truly right and good for society? Leaders must be deliberate in their judgements and truly consider all sides before making a decision that impacts the world”.

It is tempting to generalize from one’s own experience because it is at least something that we can subjectively verify. Yet its limitation is obvious. In a disciplined religious environment where respect for parents and teachers prevails and children are not conditioned to get their own way, it may well be easier to say “no”. But observation of humanity in general uggests that, particularly for parents, it is easier to say “yes” than “no”, since a “yes” will end the dialogue and buy time, space and relief for a parent—and it is the temptation to give in, to yield to children’s persistent demands, that must be resisted.

Nonetheless there is good reason to open a debate on the point that Koval raises. In several places the Talmud enunciates the principle of shev ve’al ta’aseh—choose the course of inaction where it is not clear whether one should do something or not. This position may have much to commend it when what is done cannot be undone, while that which is not done can still be done later. However, there are many situations in which action must be taken immediately, particularly in the case of medical matters.

Elsewhere in Avot we are cautioned to avoid a situation of doubt (Rabban Gamliel at 1:16). Taking careful thought ahead of making a decision and acting upon it is the way to remove doubt—or at least to reduce the size of its penumbra).  

For me, the area in which the need to proceed with caution before taking a decision, the need to remove a doubt and the maxim of shev ve’al ta’aseh come together is that in which a rabbi is asked to give a halachic ruling on whether something is permitted or prohibited—but receives the answer “better not”.  This answer complies with the principle of shev ve’al ta’aseh but only to the extent that it discourages action, but the doubt remains unless “better not” is interpreted as a reluctant “yes”.  A “better not” answer can have big consequences for others though. Think of a situation in which the question is “Can I rely on the kashrut of this shop, or restaurant, or licensing authority?” To say “better not” is quicker and easier than to investigate and weigh up the issues, and it may not be possible for a rabbi to gain access to the facts that enable an in-depth analysis to be made before giving a true and honest answer. But it is an answer that can have financial repercussions for a business or Beit Din that was not involved in the Q-and-A process.

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Thinking fast and slow: the case of the charitable promotions

 Although it is not a canonical book of the Tanach ,Daniel Kahneman's seminal book Thinking, Fast and Slow is cited so often by rabbis and Jewish scholars that one might wonder whether it has achieved a special status as a book of unarguable truths about ourselves, the world within which we live and our decision-making processes. 

Happily for students of Pirkei Avot (the Ethics of the Fathers), Kahneman's work is firmly rooted in it. His thesis is that human decision-making is based on the interplay of two very different types of thought, each of which has a vital part to play when we live our daily lives, act out our routines or face problems and issues that lie beyond the realm of the ordinary. 

The first, "system 1", is the means by which we navigate the myriad minor issues that face us each day and it is this system that accounts for the vast majority of our choices. Activities such as putting on a sock, avoiding an oncoming pedestrian on the pavement, unlocking our front door, making a cup of coffee or responding to a greeting do not require us to stop dead in our tracks and carefully map out what we do. We respond swiftly and often instinctively--and these responses will generally be correct. System 2, in contrast, is engaged when system 1 simply will not work. If I forget my front door key, I must stop and think how best I can gain access to my home. Likewise, I must do a little careful calculation before deciding if I have enough time to drink a cup of hot coffee before leaving to catch a train. 

What does this have to do with Pirkei Avot? The very first piece of guidance in the first mishnah of the first perek teaches: "Be deliberate in judgement" and many commentators go to great lengths to explain that this means what Kahneman would call switching from System 1 to System 2 thinking when resolving a legal dispute. The danger against which this guidance is given is that a judge may jump to the wrong conclusion where he intuits that he has dealt with many cases of the same nature, or involving the same "type" of litigant, in the past. Later in the same perek, at Avot 1:6, Yehoshua ben Perachya counsels us to judge others favourably even where at first glance they are guilty or unworthy of the benefit of the doubt. Again, the impetus of System 1 reasoning is acknowledged, as is the need to curb it. An anonymous mishnah in the fifth perek cautions us not to interrupt others when they are speaking -- a classical System 1 social response -- since it is better to hear them out and then decide whether your words need be said at all. 

A couple of weeks ago I was going through my post and came across two charity appeals. One was from World Jewish Relief's Ukraine Crisis Fund; the other was for the University Jewish Chaplaincy. Glancing at the promotional material for each, I was horrified by the contrast before my eyes of an image of desperate refugees from a war-torn battle zone juxtaposed with one of students eating and indeed partying together. How could I even contemplate supporting the chaplaincy in the face of an appeal on behalf of those who were so obviously in need? I instantly put the chaplaincy appeal in the pile of papers for recycling.

That was my System 1 decision. I then recalled Avot 1:1 and the maxim that one should not be hasty in one's judgement. I also bore in mind the teaching of Rabbi Meir that one should not judge anything by its external superficialities (Avot 4:27). Having done so, I took the trouble to reassess my decision and read the promotional material of the two charities carefully. 

As expected, System 2 delivered a more measured result. For a start, I discovered that the University Jewish Chaplaincy had sent 30 students and three chaplains to work with Ukrainian refugees in Poland. For another, I was reminded of the need to support students who face the ongoing antisemitism on campus which seems to have become endemic, as well as the mental health issues that many students have experienced. On mature reflection it seemed that both charities were deserving causes and that I had been over-hasty in deciding to deprive one of support on the sole basis of entitlement through the contrast between two sets of visuals.