Ignorance Is Bliss

By now you know I'm Jewish. My upbringing was mostly secular, but my wife and I chose a more religious path for our children – both at school and in our home. One of our most memorable home rituals was the Passover Seder but, in all honesty, I wasn't all that good at it. My education had left large holes in the knowledge of my heritage. So I decided to learn a little more about it, and to pass on to my children what I learned. I wrote a series of Haggadahs – “guidebooks” to the Seder – one for each of the children. The first was completed in 1980 when our oldest was fourteen, and the third two years later, when our youngest was eight. What I wrote in them isn't very important, but the experience was as the Introduction below will attest.

In the immortal words of Peggy Lee and Dave Barbour, “I know a little bit about a lot of things.” And while there are recurring themes in the essays published subsequently – like those in this column – I've also covered quite a bit of ground which included many subjects about which I had only a smattering of knowledge. Or as Lee and Barbour put it, “but I don't know enough about” them. (They had written “you” where I put “them” in the previous sentence, but you get the point.) So ignorance didn't stop me when I had something I wanted to say. In fact it helped, serving as an excuse for any errors, as you will see from the “Introduction” below. That essay, which was written for first Haggadah, may clarify my method, which I have continued to use – learn a little and shoot my mouth off. (Pope warned that “A little learning is a dangerous thing,” but that never fazed me.)

I'm including the whole Introduction. It's a little long but I like it the way it is. And you'll know a little more about me.

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Introduction

Seated around the seder table over the years we have had the opportunity to trade many ideas about the meanings of both the events recounted in the Haggadah, and the rituals associated with this celebration. These exchanges have added a lot to the pleasure of our joining together as a family, not rushed by the need to leave early or work the following day. We have learned a lot from each other, and from ourselves as well as we explored the questions we had, in order to explain our ideas about them to each other.

As the father it has been my responsibility to answer everyone's questions and to explain the deeper meanings of this important service. That has been my responsibility, but I have never fulfilled it to the degree that I should have liked. More often it has been your words, my children, your understandings and explanations, that have clarified the Haggadah for me. I have learned a lot from you and I am grateful to all of you for that. Your education and background prepared you better for this than did mine.

But my lack of education was not altogether wasted. The thoughts that I have had over the years about what was the seminal event of our history have prompted me to try to understand it in a manner a little different from the commentary in most Haggadahs. It is different in two ways. The first is in the premise of my comments. It is that the contents of the Haggadah are so basic to our understanding of our heritage that it is inconceivable that the entire Torah does not cast considerable light on it. I am certain that there is, in every parashah, whether it deals directly with the exodus or not, some thought that clarifies the meaning of the seder. Thus I have recorded my thoughts on each of the 54 sections of the Torah, indicating how I see it relating to the words of the Haggadah.

As for my lack of a formal education comparable to yours, however, that has been both a major drawback and a major benefit. Because most of the sources are closed to me I cannot bring down the references that have guided our commentators in the past. But my ignorance has been a kind of benefit. It has left me without some of the fixed ideas about what particular words, events or actions are supposed to mean. This lack of direction has allowed me to wander off in ways that may be different from those considered definitive. Indeed, some of my thoughts may be completely our of touch with our heritage, and I regret any ideas which, because of my ignorance, may be in disagreement with those of our sages.

But to the degree that my freedom to explore may have provided you with some perspectives that answer questions you have had, or which, at least, offer a different road for you to follow in finding your own answers, I am pleased. The effort, itself, has been both enlightening and liberating for me, for I have learned some important and basic lessons. First of all, in thinking about Jewish literature through the ages I recognize that a large percentage of it is not “original” but commentary on past works, especially the Torah, written and oral. And it follows that there is a great deal of commentary on the Haggadah, which is based on Torah. The Haggadah, which is based on biblical texts, has been expanded and expounded upon from the Tannaitic Period up to modern times, and the volume and varieties of commentaries is overwhelming.

More significantly, though, I now realize that the value of these commentaries is only in part the content. For after having engaged in this effort it seems apparent to me that even more important than the content is the process itself. I have commented on this idea while discussing Pikudei. Thinking and reworking the ideas has given me many more insights into it than I have recorded, and I hope that it will provide the opportunity for readers as well to consider and comment on the material. That is what Torah is about. It is a living document as long as we make it live by delving into it.

I have benefited greatly from this effort, and I hope you will gain a small part of the bounty I have derived from it.

Not Guilty

“Not guilty.”

That's all it takes. Perhaps, in the timeless words of Yogi Berra, “It ain't over 'til its over,” but now it's over. That verdict ends it all (like a statute of limitations). You may be guilty of murder or of whatever other transgression you were accused, in fact you may brag about your guilt, but you beat the rap. They can never try you for the same crime again, even if there is new and irrefutable evidence of your guilt. It's over.

There are many similar instances when, because of a single occurrence, some hazard has been removed. Paradigmatic of such a situation are the words of Numbers (35:9-12), which describes “Cities of Refuge” to which one who has committed manslaughter may flee, so as to prevent his own killing by a family member of the victim. Until he is within one of those cities he is fair game for retaliation, but after that he is safe from any revenge. He had been in a very dangerous situation, but was now safe.

Generally speaking, there are numerous cases in which an individual moves from an insecure position – perhaps even a dangerous one – to one that removes the doubt and the risk, though the risks are of widely varying degrees of severity. A letter offering a job or acceptance to college, for example, may be a cause for celebration providing security that, until that moment was lacking. In those instances, however, the revocation of that position, though dishonorable, is possible, as contrasted with double jeopardy. In the case of a jury verdict there's no going back. Perhaps other charges will be filed, but you can never be tried for the same crime.

The security of a refugee reaching American land, as opposed to the risks faced a moment before, when the possibility, if apprehended, of immediate return to the land from which he was fleeing, cannot be minimized. And the protection provided by a church or some country's embassy is absolute (more true historically than recently). Perhaps it is a manifestation of the idea of sanctuary. The dangers faced until then were no longer to be feared. Those who entered have reached their own “city of refuge.” Certainly a border between countries provides at least temporary protection from retribution for violation of the laws of the land just left. And the possibility of death by abortion, an immediate and permanent risk, yields to the protection of the law immediately upon birth.

But crossing the Rubicon has its risks as well. Passing the “point of no return” leaves the past behind, but there are times when it would be preferable to be able to return. Ask any investor who missed his chance to “sell high” when he had the chance, but didn't do so before the market went rapidly downhill, or lost his chance to buy when the market was low. The previous conditions may return, but in the meantime he has squandered the possibility for profits this time around.

And in the heat of an argument, who has not said something that he later regretted? Sadly, you can't take it back once it's left your mouth. A relationship that had, until that time, been flourishing, can be damaged forever. Indeed, the same result may follow a “Freudian slip,” even if no conscious malice was intended. When you've given yourself away, there's no way to convince the hearer that you didn't really mean what you said.

We have all experienced missed opportunities. We have all missed a sale or rejected a job. We have all been in the wrong place at the right time or the right place at the wrong. Life is full of lost chances. For the most part, however, a missed chance is only a delay. Chances reoccur. A miss may be as good as a mile, but a mile is finite. You can “go home again.”

That's not always the case though. Wars, for example, leave casualties. So do accidents. And some injuries cannot be repaired. They leave permanent disabilities. We sometimes try to be philosophical about the situation, but our protestations are hollow. The euphemists among us avoid talk of disability, preferring “different ability,” but that doesn't change reality. However much we may wish, we can't make it so. There are times when we can't go back.

But nothing is more permanent than death. And nothing is more to be regretted than an unnecessary death. However saddened we may be when a loved one dies of “natural causes,” it is many times harder to comprehend and accept a death that was avoidable – either from war or violence. Our Constitution tells us that our country was formed with several aims, and among them was to “provide for the common defence [sic].” The promised protection was against foreign powers, with the against home-grown violence left to the States. There are failures in both cases, and we grieve not only for those directly affected but also for the society that cannot accomplish all it has pledged to do.

When the government itself chooses to take a life, however, it is understandable that, for many, grieving isn't adequate. The Supreme Court has forbidden capital punishment under some circumstances, but neither the Court, nor the Constitution, rejects it as an option. Still, there are many who believe that the state has no right to take a life. (Usually the popular proscription is aimed at capital punishment rather than war, but there are also those who are conscientious objectors to any form of violence.) The arguments are both philosophic – killing is wrong, and practical – the state may get it wrong and kill the innocent.

The latter possibility – the execution of someone who is not guilty – is, in many ways, very similar to the first case discussed. Both involve court rulings and in both cases the results are irreversible, though they are opposites. In one case the state provides possibly unwarranted immunity and permanent protection, in the other death – a similarly permanent result, even if exculpatory evidence later surfaces. Not all irreversible status changes are desirable – especially in this instance. An executed innocent soul may never have caused harm and certainly never will, but a freed murderer may kill others.

“Que sera, sera.” But it's not always for the best. And when it's unalterable, the potential for great evil exists along with that for great good.

Entitlements Of The Rich

If you've been reading these essays you know that I'm opposed to the use of tax money to provide entitlements to the underprivileged. It's not that I'm opposed to helping the needy and the burdened, but I have other views about how this support should be obtained. Some of my thoughts can be read in earlier efforts. For a start, try “Giving And Receiving,” (October 24^th, 2010) and parts one and two of “You Get What You Pay For?” (August 7^th and 14^th in 2011). In short, I decried the use of tax money as the source of such aid.

My ideas were not new: those who pay taxes should not be forced to give “charity.” However important the goal, obligatory payment is not charity. And that's just what “entitlements” are. Whether as welfare, food stamps, free medical care, “negative tax,” shelters and other housing, or whatever, they reflect the use of tax money for charity, and represent a shift of American values. Perhaps it was a “necessary” shift, but we ought not sugar-coat the change. There was a time in our history when Americans were fiercely independent. The “pioneer spirit” dictated people's behavior. They viewed it as their responsibility to make a living and fend for themselves. If that wasn't possible where they were, they moved somewhere else.

But to understand our actions it is necessary to understand the terminology. What does “underprivileged” mean? What does “burdened” mean? What does “needy” mean? Think about it.  Maybe I'll cover it more fully some time. 

The Progressive Era – and especially actions intended to end the depression – marked a new approach to the situation. Although those actions were, by and large, unsuccessful, and it took World War II to spur economic growth, the legislation of the (Franklin) Roosevelt administration, and expansions of it since, have created a society in which the government has undertaken to provide for the needy. Employment increased, at least for bureaucrats, civil servants, and “experts.” But the fiercely independent became the frighteningly dependent.

Many years ago I read an article that addressed this kind of situation. As I remember (and it's been decades, but even if I have some of the facts incorrect this retelling illustrates the point) it was published a few years after World War II and was framed as a narrator educating an ex-serviceman. The former soldier was complaining about how he had to work for a living while others were getting welfare – a “ free ride” at his expense. I don't remember the specifics at the time (it was several decades ago) but it included benefits for food and shelter and for the kids and for medical care and more. And it was paid for out of taxes.

The one who was complaining was really angered by what he considered an injustice until the narrator, the voice of reason, pointed out to him that he, too, received welfare. After all, he had received an education through the “GI Bill of Rights,” he benefited from road construction he was entitled to Social Security, he got veterans' medical care, was protected by the military, the police, and fire fighters, the cushion of unemployment insurance, as well as the gains received from the various governmental agencies and from research of all kinds which the government supported. All the wiser for the points made to him, his position softened regarding the use of public funds to “promote the general welfare,” as the Constitution promises us. The soldier was convinced.

As a liberal, I was heartened by the statement, and all doubts that I had – and I did have a few – faded. Those who complained about the support the poor were getting were either mean-spirited or hypocrites. Or both. And while the benefits to the underprivileged have increased over the years – and to the privileged as well – the arguments are the same, and most Americans condemn our government's failure to make the problems disappear. The haves want more, and they would deny the needs of the have-nots.

The answer was obvious. Justice and basic fairness demanded more assistance from taxes for those who were poor. So I forgot about the problem, leaving the government to address it. But over time it resurfaced, along with the doubts I had. And now, the more I think about it the more I realize that the narrator's sophistry might have been filled with convincing rhetorical flourishes, but it lacked substance. It was misleading, and I was misled.

The basic flaw of the argument is that the “privileged” pay taxes and the “underprivileged” do not. The serviceman in the essay about which I spoke earned the benefits he received, or paid for them in his taxes. The “needy” receive the benefits they get – and they're eligible for the ones provided for the “mean-spirited hypocrites,” even if those who pay taxes are not entitled to welfare or “negative income tax.” It's a system of income redistribution. Those who pay taxes are supporting those who don't pay. Winners lose and losers win.

That's not to say that I envy the needy or would voluntarily change places with them – I wouldn't – but it alters my perspective regarding the way we deal with the problem of poverty. It made me consider the definitions of “privileged” and “underprivileged,” of “poor” and “entitled.” And it made me wonder whether our current policies encourage some of the poor to remain so, or to find ways to convince government agencies that they're in need of help. (I also wonder if members of unions – governmental and other – who receive disability or large pensions while they take other jobs, aren't also “playing” the system.) One conclusion is that the way we are using money to try to solve the problem doesn't work. Like farm subsidies, using money to support those who don't pay taxes, or who don't produce, doesn't encourage work and production. If we're determined to redistribute taxpayer money, we should do it more intelligently and in a way that might decrease the temptation to take rather than earn. And it might increase the temptation to become taxpayers rather than depend on them.

How might that be done? Let me suggest one possible tax code change which could also motivate improved job performance and productivity among lower salaried employees – the ones most likely to be taking advantage of unearned government benefits. Contrary to every principle we've been taught, rather than a graduated income tax we ought to consider one for lower incomes that decreases as earnings go up, so there's an incentive to earn more. There might be a plateau at some particular rate, or an eventual increase to the level of a plateau, with a flat or graduated tax beyond that, but for individuals with lower incomes there would be a good reason to try to increase (and report) them. That would also lower the need for entitlements and for the agencies that administer them.

Providing more day care and care for the disabled would increase the number of salaried positions and would free more people for work. Tax benefits for families that stay together would encourage that practice and allow families in which parental care of the children is desired to be able to offer it. If our schools pay bounties to students who are improving, and many do, we can offer bounties for improving family life.

Lowering entitlement payments as time went by might also be tried. Perhaps it would spur some to try harder to gain employment. Private enterprise could be “bribed” to provide jobs for the unemployed at a higher “minimum wage,” increasing tax revenues and the number of jobs while tempering the cost to the employers. There will, by the way, still be entrepreneurs and others with high earnings, since they'll want more and put in the effort and expertise to earn it, and everyone will benefit from their creativity in the formation of new products, industries.

We should also use some of our taxpayers' money to improve our educational system, starting with districts that can afford the least per student. It should emphasize the new skills that are anticipated. It can be viewed as the beginning of the rising tide that lifts all boats – a kind of trickle-up economics.

Charitable institutions would take much of the burden off the government. There are inducements already in our tax codes, and new mechanisms can be written into it, to encourage individuals to give to charities, and charities to provide additional services. Right now we make charities tax exempt. Perhaps they should be considered for some kind of negative tax. Although individuals should not be obligated to give charity, those who do should be aided.

I suspect there are numerous other ways to increase our tax base – both in terms of industries and employed individuals. But simply distributing tax money to the poor isn't the solution. We have to try something new.

If I Were A Rich Man

A certain kind of rich man afflicted with the symptoms of moral dandyism sooner or later comes to the conclusion that it isn't enough merely to make money. He feels obliged to hold views, to espouse causes and elect Presidents, to explain to a trembling world how and why the world went wrong. -Lewis H. Lapham, editor and writer.

Unfortunately, that's not the whole story. Too often he begins to believe that he actually knows something. Something beyond what it was that helped him make (or inherit) money. And others believe it, too. His self-delusion is shared by those yearning to be like him.

The most important men in town would come to fawn on me!
They would ask me to advise them,
Like a Solomon the Wise.
"If you please, Reb Tevye..."
"Pardon me, Reb Tevye..."
Posing problems that would cross a rabbi's eyes! (From Fiddler on the Roof, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick)

That's the problem. If you're rich, people think you know something, and so do you. And if you're rich you can afford a platform from which to proclaim your message.

That's not the only platform of course. Friends, Romans and countrymen eagerly lend their ears to those whom they admire – very often stars in entertainment, or heroic athletes. For some reason we automatically attribute wisdom to those we idolize, even if for reasons completely unrelated to the issue in question.

What's in a name? Everything. People buy Air Jordans^®; they take beauty advice from super models, and political advice from movie stars. Sometimes a familiar name and an admired personality can attract followers. We're a wannabe society and we imitate those who are rich or beautiful or famous. Sometimes, though not very often, the famous are also wise. Ronald Reagan's popularity won him the governorship of California and, with the experience and platform that office gave him, he moved up to the Presidency, and did reasonably well for our country in that position. Most of the time, however, prominence or stardom is unassociated with good sense. (Think Sean Penn, Jane Fonda, and Dennis Rodman.)

And, while also often lacking good sense, the media control people's thinking on a wide variety of subjects. They have the broadest platform of all, and even though most people claim that they don't trust journalists and the press, their sources of information – right or wrong – sway voters. As do those with loud voices.

We're easily influenced. We may claim to be independent thinkers, but if we hear something often enough and loud enough we believe it. And if what we hear is something we already believe, if our biases are confirmed, we become deaf to counter-arguments, no matter how logical they may be. In a time of dissatisfaction, a populist with a loud voice becomes the spokesman for the disillusioned; and the means for advertising his opinion – money, notoriety, and a loud voice, for example – trump experience, tact, and wisdom. He thinks he has all the answers, and his followers believe him.

And it won't make one bit of difference if I answer right or wrong.
When you're rich, they think you really know!

Sheldon Harnick was as much a philosopher as a lyricist. And he was certainly a perceptive viewer of human nature. Hidden in his homily about the situation in eastern Europe so much earlier, he described a danger to American society; indeed, a reality about all societies. It is our assumption that those who succeed – or are believed to have succeeded – know everything, and that we know nothing. But some of those “successes” are the know-nothings. And if we can get beyond our own disillusionment, we can see that.

The Melting Pot

“A lot of folks didn't know they were black. A lot of people thought they were Americans.” So said (Black Panther) Jimmy Garrett about those attending his (identity raising) reading groups in the 1960's. (Cited in Andrew Hartman's A War for the Soul of America.)

They “thought they were Americans.” What a humiliating idea.

"America is God's Crucible, the great Melting-Pot where all the races of Europe are melting and reforming... Germans and Frenchmen, Irishmen and Englishmen, Jews and Russians – into the Crucible with you all! God is making the American." That was the take of Israel Zangwill (in The Melting Pot) who, though English, better understood America's mission than many Americans.

Some have viewed this mission as a call for assimilation, which, to a degree, it is. America has always been a potpourri, an olio both ethnically and politically. We are a country of immigrants (remaining so today, notwithstanding the current political brouhaha) and while most of our newest members have adopted the culture of their new land, we have all gained by their incorporation into our culture of fragments of their own.

But the most important element has been the acquisition of our ways by those who have come here. It is what many have sought and what others have accepted in the quest to leave the oppressive situations in which they lived. Some came for the freedom we offer, and some primarily for economic reasons. Either way, however, they chose to join a society which they viewed as superior to their own. And there is no question that many of our country's benefits are unique, and worth the difficulties associated with migration.

There is no question, though, that Americans have been prejudiced against those they considered different from themselves. This includes those of other races, ethnicities, and religions. All are seen as “foreigners” or other “undesirables.” Some of our citizens denigrate as well those with accents, different sexual practices, opposing political views, and other levels of education from their own. Over the years, however, the differences have often faded (not invariably, of course) with assimilation and acculturation.

But we must all remember that assimilation doesn't preclude the maintaining of the cultures of their upbringings, nor the teaching of those cultures to their children or to us. That is a desirable practice helping us better understand both the values and practices of other nations and peoples – important on its own and a special need of those traveling for pleasure or business – and the comparative strengths of our own society. The importation of traditions other than our own is beneficial to us.

Still, “multiculturalism” can go too far. Some see their new home as a place which they would like to turn into one resembling the old. Europe has experienced immigration over recent decades (not just the recent flood from the Middle East) which has led to voluntary ghettoization and an attempt to import and impose the societies that they left, including religious law, on those to which they fled. And this has led to conflict and distrust all around them. It has led to demands that the newer members of that society “go back where they came from.”

A major problem is that while most want to assimilate and become full members of their new society – to become indistinguishable from other citizens – there are many who prefer the past to the present, and are unwilling to give up their old ways. Moreover, there are many who believe, often with good reason, that they are being marginalized by their new fellow citizens. But there are others who see their presumed marginalization as a meal ticket. It is a rationalization for any failures of their own, and a stick to be used against a society that they claim has oppressed them. Their ways are right, and society's are wrong.

From my perspective, such an attitude is unwarranted. It is admirable to want to preserve the past practices of your heritage, but that should be along with, not instead of, those of your new home. Perhaps your traditions should inform the new society in which you live, but they should not replace them. Except to the degree that they are protected by the first, or some other, amendment, they should be subservient to American law.

We do not live in an either/or society – one that requires that we eschew either our past or our present – but one that is both/and: one in which past, present, and future enhance each other. That is a status that will provide for our future and make it profitable for us all. We can be whatever, and Americans as well.

Super Tuesday

Yesterday was “Super Tuesday,” and the nomination process is all but over. That the two main candidates, Clinton and Trump, may both be indicted, didn't affect their momentum. Should legal actions be undertaken (Trump for fraud in his on-line university and Clinton for illegal e-mail practices and lying to the American People) both will probably claim that it's all political, and will use it to stir up the masses against the system. Trump certainly will, and in no uncertain terms, but Clinton will have to be a little more subtle about the message, since it will reflect on the government of which she was a part. I'm certain, though, that she'll find a way.

They have similarities, but also big differences. Both have been faulted for statements they have made, but while Clinton tries to explain them away, Trump glories in them and brags about them. Clinton wears her heart on her sleeve, bemoaning the plight of the underprivileged, and appealing to the numerous interest groups that view government as the answer to all their difficulties, while Trump wears his hate on his sleeve. His appeal is to all those whose interest is in America's strength – however that is viewed by others. In fact he would exclude all others. Both are populists, though their constituencies are very different. Those favoring Trump are ignorant and bigoted, and they don't care, as long as America is strong and proud. The supporters of Clinton's campaign are also ignorant, but believe themselves to be intellectuals. They are embarrassed by their country and can only see its faults – or what they consider its faults. And they're quick to point out what they view as the defects of other countries – defects which reflect more their own bigotry than the flaws they project on those countries. They represent parties that are becoming more polarized, at the end of a regime that promised to bring us all together.

I was speaking to my sons about the situation a few days ago and both mentioned the possibility of leaving our country. They foresaw disaster irrespective of which of them might win. (And Bernie Sanders would also be a frightening possibility.) It's hard to know how serious they are, but it's hard to dismiss what they said out of hand. I'm too old to start a new life somewhere else so, concerned as I might be, leaving isn't really an option. And, I suspect, there are millions of other Americans who are equally troubled by the candidates likely to be on the ballot.

A solution that has been proposed is a third party effort. Typically, third parties don't get a majority (and typically mayors of New York City go no further politically). Theodore Roosevelt demonstrated this problem as, more recently, did Strom Thurmond and Ross Perot. There's no reason to think it would be any different this time. But all of them siphoned votes from other candidates and won electoral votes for themselves. Wilson only won in 1912 when he was chosen by the Electoral College after earning what was a minority of the popular vote. Michael Bloomberg has floated the possibility of running such a campaign, and were he to do well enough it might mean that the decision becomes the responsibility of the College. Perhaps practical electors will rethink the ideological issues and the populism, and compromise on a candidate less tainted by them. Indeed, Mr. Bloomberg has both experience in government and in business and economics. And he is far less caught up in polarized ideology than either of the other candidates. At the very least, a respectable showing would send a strong message to the winner.

The times are frightening. We face an election that is likely to split our people as never before. The only positive feature is that old party loyalties will be rethought by many who would be unable to vote for their party's offering. Unfortunately, that positive feature is not enough to justify the cost to our country – both locally and in world opinion.