This week’s Torah reading contains descriptions of physical characteristics that disqualify a kohen from the Temple service. Given that some listeners may answer to these descriptions, the question of sensitivity presents itself.
The contemporary practice of issuing “trigger warnings” before conveying content that may provoke discomfort, anxiety, or anguish in some of the audience might have a precedent in the Talmudic passage discussing ona’at devarim, roughly translatable as “verbal oppression”, or speaking hurtfully to others. In a cryptic declaration at the very end of that discussion, there is a statement that one should not say “hang this fish” if someone in the family has been executed by hanging. (The translation here is intentionally broad; it is possible that the idea is not to use this language in front of relative of the hanged individual, or that the relative himself should not, or would not, use this phrasing; see Rashi.) At first blush, this seems to indicate that one must indeed be wary not only of topics that are sensitive for listeners, but even for words that trigger memories through unintended verbal connections.
Douglas Hofstadter and Emmanuel Sandler, in their book Surfaces and Essences, (ch.2) discuss the phenomenon that the mind automatically makes linguistic associations, what they call “the irrepressibility of seeing certain analogies”. Strikingly, the example they give is an unacknowledged direct quote from our Talmudic passage: "One mustn't say hang up your fish in a hanged man's house"; also "one mustn't speak a rope in a hanged man's house", the English counterpart of the French “Il ne faut pas parler de corde dans le maison d’un pendu”.
As they explain, “the idea expressed by such proverbs is of course that people cannot help making analogical associations at the drop of a hat, and that everyone should be sensitive to this fact. Thus, even if one innocently wishes to allude to a piece of rope that was used to tie a package, or to say that some fish should be hung out to dry, it would be boorish to do so in the presence of the family of someone who had been hanged. The hanging would be vividly present in the uttered words, no matter how the thought was phrased. And so in certain circumstances, certain things cannot be said or even hinted at. This proverb tips its hat to the fluidity of human cognition…”.
Does this, then, mean that such insensitivity constitutes a violation of ona’at devarim, the severe prohibition against the infliction of emotional distress? A standard of this level, while admirable, could be overwhelming. It may not even be possible for a speaker to be aware of, and consistently keep track of, every unrelated word that may inadvertently provoke an unwelcome association. If one assumes the prohibition of ona’at devarim requires intention, or especially deception (two points of contention among the authorities) that would further limit its applicability to this situation.
It does not seem, in fact, that this does represent an actual violation of the formal prohibition, and it is not cited in the codes of Jewish law (see however Sefer Chasidim, 635, who does mandate behavior based on this passage). Presumably, the significance of the Talmudic message is to raise the consciousness of the speakers to the possibility of such connections, and to advocate for sensitivity whenever reasonable, but not to assert that to do otherwise, especially unknowingly, would constitute a genuine transgression.
Another example of semantic sensitivity is found in a rabbinic source (Masekhet Kallah 5:4; see Nachalat Yaakov) where it is taught that one who wishes to convey to his blind teacher that nighttime has arrived should not say “it is dark now” but rather, “you should take off your tefilin” (as those are not worn at night).
Of course there is language that is known to be hurtful, such as racial epithets or related expressions of group disparagement, and this world demands a higher level of responsibility from the speaker. Even when not directed at an individual, which creates its own category of offense, such language can inflict pain through the associations it evokes by usage in front of sensitive listeners, both of the “hanging fish” variety and as a display of general disdain, which is itself a source of anxiety and discomfort.
Ironically, efforts to reduce the usage of such language can be its own source of further negative impact, as these often require the very invoking of the terms that themselves inflict anguish in the process. As such, a careful cost benefit analysis would need to be done to assess how and when such efforts should take place. At times, a desire to establish one’s own moral credentials comes at the cost of those one is endeavoring to protect, a form of counterproductive virtue signaling.
Moreover, if false or misleading accusations of utilizing hurtful language are leveled at others, such as is often done against opponents in political campaigns and the like, a new level of harm is created. Not only are the allegations acts of slander, they themselves inflict the harm that is being blamed on the targets of the accusations. This constitutes “Offense Ventriloquism”, the placing of damaging language into the mouths of others while in fact committing that very offense, and is its own unique transgression.
A precedent for this concern can be found in the writings of the Chafetz Chaim (Hil. Lashon Hara 5:10) who discusses the fact that it is sometimes necessary to publicly expose sinners, including those who engage in lashon hara. Nonetheless, he warns, this should not be done if the subject of the malicious speech is unaware that it has happened, as the very act of publicizing the matter will cause additional harm to the victim (he is actually referring to the specific transgression of rekhilut, but the point could easily be applied more broadly), even though his intention is noble, to be “zealous for the truth”.
An important question then to consider is whether the sensitivity to avoiding painful language and subject matter would extend even to the teaching of Torah and Jewish law, and whether it would potentially restrict certain acts within communal ritual practice.
To this point, the Sefer Chasidim, (#768), quoted authoritatively by the Magen Avraham (Orach Chaim, 138:4) asserts that when reading a section from the Torah that may call unwanted attention to an individual with physical traits described negatively in that section, that person should not be called to the Torah for that section. The concern is, of course, that he will be embarrassed in that light, and R. Reuven Margoliot (Mekor Chesed to the Sefer Chasidim, 768, #2) bases this sensitivity on the “hanging fish” exhortation from the Talmud.
Moreso, this consideration is extended to spiritual blemishes as well, and one who is suspected of sinful behavior should not be called to the Torah for the sections detailing the relevant prohibitions. It may be argued that this latter policy is due to the fact that calling an individual to the Torah whose behavior defies the words being read at that moment undermines the Torah’s message; while this may also be true, it is clear from the Sefer Chasidim’s language that it is also due to fear of embarrassing the sinner. (See also the Chida’s commentary, Brit Olam.)
Following the lead of this ruling, R. Yitzchak Zilberstein (Hearev Na III, 288-290) discusses the case of a lecturer of a Daf Yomi class, who reaches the section, for example, in the tractate Bekhorot, where disqualifying physical defects are described. In this particular class, there is a participant who answers to that description. What should the lecturer do: skip that page or section? Mistranslate or fudge the rendition? Or proceed as normal? He notes some differences from the Sefer Chasidim’s situation: in the case of the Torah reading, all of it will be read, just with someone else called to the Torah, while skipping the relevant sections of the Talmud will compromise or falsify the teaching; and the earlier issue was with calling that person up to the Torah, not simply having him in the room. A more parallel case would be calling on that person to read for the group. However, regarding this last point, it should be noted that there are multiple degrees of concern: it is true that calling the person up to the Torah puts a spotlight on him that is more of a public embarrassment, but even being present may subject him to unpleasant feelings of the “hang this fish” variety, which may constitute ona’at devarim.
After considering the factors, R. Zilberstein's inclination was that no change should be made, and the individual in question well presumably not feel any embarrassment, recognizing that his physical features are a function of God's creation. R. Nissim Karelitz, however, was not as sanguine, and asserted that emotions are not necessarily so easily overridden, and the lecturer may need to use careful judgment and sensitivity.
This debate is another indication of the complexity of this topic, in the subjective nature of what may or may not be offensive, particularly when the linguistic connections are indirect. A balance must be struck between appropriate sensitivity and the inadvertent creation of a reality where innocuous content becomes offensive.
Jill Filipovic addressed this possibility in an article in the Atlantic (August 9, 2023). She writes that thewarnings often “seemed more about emphasizing the upsetting nature of certain topics than about accommodating people who had experienced traumatic events”.
Richard Alan Friedman, a professor of clinical psychiatry at Weill Cornell Medical College, told her that, beginning in 2016 or so, he began seeing an increase in reports of students alleging that they had been “harmed by things that were unfamiliar and uncomfortable” and that “the language they used to describe unease upon hearing comments in class, for example, seemed inflated relative to the actual harm that could be done… people were very upset about things that we would never have thought would be dangerous.”.
Filipovic quotes PTSD specialist Shaili Jain as saying that “it is now easier to artificially curate environments that are comfortable... I think that is backfiring, because when they are in a situation where they are not comfortable, it feels really alarming”.
This phenomenon exists on a micro and macro level, meaning both that words can become stigmatized unfairly, and that the entire experience of dialogue can become more fraught than it needs to be. Alexander Karp, in his book "The Technological Republic," (p. 157) writes that “the rise of trigger warnings … has backfired spectacularly by fostering a sense of harm that often does not exist…This is a grievance industry, and it is at risk of depriving a generation of the fierceness and sense of proportion that are essential to becoming a full participant in this world. a certain psychological resilience and indeed indifference to the opinion of others are required if one is to have any hope of building something substantial and differentiated.”
Filipovic concludes her article by identifying the balance necessary to be truly beneficial to those who have experienced trauma. While it is true that individuals often need protection from difficult associations, it can also be the case that, as Dr. Friedman told her, building resilience in this area is comparable to strength training and requires a parallel process. “Creating the conditions where that kind of resilience is possible is as much a collective responsibility as an individual one,” while the effort “places a heavier burden on some people than others”.
The concern for avoiding the infliction of emotional harm is one that ultimately is about impact rather than process. Finding that path is a challenge that demands proactive sensitivity and careful thought. The task of teaching requires imparting information, conveying character, and caring for the entirety of the student. Ideally, these goals are in harmony. At times, however, they are in tension; and that, too, is a lesson.
R' D.F.
