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The Torah’s prohibition against embarrassing others is severe enough that the Talmud equates the act with bloodshed. That severity raises the question of if and how there can ever be an acceptable use for public shaming. It is clear from the Talmud and other early sources that there were indeed occasions when public pronouncements were used, for example when individuals refused to fulfill financial commitments, especially to dependent family members.
The Tur (Choshen Mishpat 2) records that beit din is empowered to take measures to coerce its decisions, but must take care in doing so, remaining mindful of concerns of human dignity. The goal, he stresses, is that the honor of Heaven should be increased through their actions.
R. Shlomo Dichovsky (in the journal Sha’arei Tzedek, XXI, pp. 85-88) explains that this methodology is only viable in monetary matters, where the subject’s acknowledgement is significant, and can thus be the target of the campaign’s efforts; or in other areas where a beit din can compel behavior, such as the giving of a get. Most importantly, this is a tool of beit din, not a method that is acceptable between individuals.
Maimonides (Hil. De’ot 6:8) rules that sinful behavior must be rebuked privately. However, in matters of offense against God, if the sinner does not accept the reproach, the behavior should be publicized; this, he writes, is as all the prophets of Israel did. The Minchat Chinnukh (mitzvah 240) suggests that in all areas if rebuke is unsuccessful in private it would necessarily have to move into the public sphere; in the interpersonal realm, however, the other party can waive his rights and thus not be forced to embarrass his fellow.
This would lead to the conclusion that if the offended is a third party, then the rebuker has no control over the situation and should go public, if necessary, in that case as well. This is expressed in the Chafetz Chaim (Hil. Lashon Hara 10:1), who writes that one who sees that someone has mistreated another and not rectified the situation, may inform other people if necessary to address the matter. However, the Chafetz Chaim accompanies this license with a checklist of seven conditions to ascertain that the revelation is justifiable.
The Seven Conditions
Perhaps the primary condition is that the speaker know that the information is true. However, this condition, as important as it is, is not necessarily indisputable. It is possible that there may be some risk to another that the speaker does not know with certainty, but the potential harm must be conveyed nonetheless to guarantee the protection of others. Accordingly, it has been cogently asserted that this condition is adaptable through proper presentation. If the speaker is able to transmit the information in a fashion consistent with his degree of certitude, in other words, to express that it is a concern rather than a certainty, this condition should be satisfied (see Responsa Avnei Yashpeh, I, 25).
Consistent with this concern for accuracy is another of the Chafetz Chaim’s conditions, that the information be presented in a completely straightforward manner, without any exaggeration or “spin”.
Other conditions focus on the necessity of the revelation. Thus, the Chafetz Chaim requires that the misdeed under discussion is an actual, definable injustice that warrants such a step. Further, there should be no other way to address the situation: if possible and effective, the perpetrator should be spoken to directly, and in general other methods should be sought to resolve the problem. Presumably, only speaking when absolutely necessary would include also ascertaining that only those who are affected are able to hear, and thus, for example, not to relay such information on the phone in a public place when uninvolved parties can listen. Similarly, even once the decision is made to speak, if possible an effort should be made to limit unnecessary damage to the subject.
The Chafetz Chaim also requires that the negative impact that will likely result from the report not be greater than justice dictates. However, this may not be possible to control while still adequately protecting others, and accordingly this factor is also assessed in light of the potential harm being threatened.
One of the Chafetz Chaim’s criteria poses a particular challenge to the speaker. This condition mandates that the intent be purely to prevent harm, and not flow from any hatred of the subject. If indeed he is motivated by hatred, he nonetheless is not exempted from the obligation to prevent harm. Accordingly, rules the Chafetz Chaim (Hil. Rekhilut, klal 9, Be’er Mayim Chaim), this standard obligates the speaker to relate the information, but only after performing the inner work necessary to dispose of his hatred.
The very premise of the Chafetz Chaim, that a motive of “purpose” does not by itself justify the relating of information if it is tainted by an accompanying ulterior motive, has been the subject of some debate. The ruling is based on statements of Rabbeinu Yonah (Sha’arei Teshuvah 3: 216, 219, 228, and Aliyot, Bava Batra 39a). Once again, the serious objection can be raised from the need for protection of the innocent; it may be that the only one in a position to provide this protection nonetheless has a personal animus against the subject.
More conceptually, the premise can be challenged when the question is abstracted to a broader issue in Talmudic law: the role of intent or ulterior motive in undermining the legitimacy of suspending prohibitions under extenuating circumstances. One might conclude, for example, the clearly incorrect position that one who is seriously ill may not eat on Yom Kippur, in that he enjoys the food, and thus his motive for eating is not purely to protect his health. The theoretical underpinnings of the issue are substantial enough that a later scholar devoted a book-length volume to defending this premise of the Chafetz Chaim, particularly against the background of the broader Talmudic issues (R. Gershon Robinson, Tokhachat Chaim). As the author notes, lashon haramay differ significantly from other areas where mixed motivations are present in the fact that one who eats on Yom Kippur may also enjoy the food does not affect the basics of the process. By contrast, if one has such an antipathy towards another that he is eager to speak badly about him, that bias may fundamentally affect the content that he is relaying and indeed the decision to relay it in the first place.
Practically, the issue is complex, and two fundamental points emerge from the debate. First, one who is tainted by antipathy toward the subject is prone to the prevalent biases and prejudices that may skew the reliability and even the basic truth of the report, even if he believes he is motivated by the protection of another, and thus when a more objective source is available, that is greatly preferable. Second, when there is no alternative, it is incumbent upon the speaker to take any steps possible to correct for his predisposition and to present as untainted a report as is feasible.
R. Shraya Deblitsky (in his approbation to Tokhachat Chaim), a prominent rabbinic author from Bnei Brak, Israel, noted that there is more latitude to account for this concern of mixed motivations when considering giving a negative report to protect oneself. However, if another person is threatened, the protection imperative takes priority and the warning must be issued. In either case, he notes, the conditions of the Chafetz Chaim are difficult if not impossible to fulfill perfectly. Rather, they should be taken as important considerations that require a good faith effort to address to the best of one’s ability.
Beit Din and Its Substitutes
R. Yehudah Zoldan (in the journal Sha’arei Tzedek, XXI, pp. 250-254) discusses the Chafetz Chaim’s conditions as a foundation for assessing the viability of public shaming, although he also notes the debatable nature of the conditions as a whole, and that they lack a clear authoritative source. R. Chaim David HaLevi (Responsa Aseh Likha Rav VI, 89) asserts that the conditions can be very difficult to satisfy, and “nafal puta b’bira”, a reference to a Talmudic passage (Shabbat 66b) indicating that a remedy with too many conditions loses all effectiveness.
R. Zoldan displays how the involvement of a beit din in the process accomplishes much of the purpose of the Chafetz Chaim’s conditions. The first three conditions are intended to establish the facts of the situation, and that previous efforts have been unsuccessful; this is something beit din is equipped to do. The fourth and fifth conditions are to assure that the process of informing on the offender is focused and will not get out of control, while the last conditions are to ascertain that there is no more appropriate way to deal with it. Here again, beit din is particularly positioned to satisfy these requirements.
R. Ezra Batzri (Responsa Sha’arei Ezra II, 156) addresses the issue in a similar fashion, noting that the conditions of the Chafetz Chaim, and others who made similar suggestions, essentially addressed the following considerations: that there be reliable knowledge of the offense; that it be confirmed as genuinely sinful behavior; that there be no exaggeration; no ulterior motivations; and that the process be carried out openly, certainly to the exclusion of anonymous activity.
One area in which this tactic is commonly utilized is recalcitrance in divorce proceedings, when a husband is refusing to give a get to his wife or the wife is refusing to accept. In this case, the role of the beit dinis particularly important, for all of the above reasons but also to ascertain that nothing should be done that would disqualify the get as a “coerced get” (get me’useh).
R. Batzri notes that the Talmud also mentions another reason for publicizing a sinner that is not necessarily about trying to change his behavior; this is the category of chanafim, or hypocrites, in the sense of those who are completely false in their piety. In that case, the purpose of publicizing them is so that the public is not misled to follow their behavior. The Talmud also refers to those who have a “bad reputation”; as the Meiri (Mo’ed Katan 16a) explains, this comes from a kola d’lo pasik, a persistent rumor, that has actual significance because it is not the result of the subject’s personal enemies and ba’alei lashon hara. But, asks R. Batzri, who today does not have such detractors? Accordingly, a beit din remains needed to oversee such a process, if it is ever feasible.
That being said, there may be other organized, accountable bodies that may be able to serve a similar function, especially when objective protocols are in place. For example, some authorities discuss the question of a tenant’s association posting the names of building residents who fail to pay their obligation to the building fees. In this case, they point out, the delinquent individuals are functionally stealing from the other tenants, and the situation must be remedied (see R. Yitzchak Zilberstein, quoted in Meorot HaParshah, p. 100).
There are other environments as well where, under controlled conditions and due to significant need, embarrassment may have a necessary role. For example, R. Zilberstein considers a teaching hospital in which the residents are forced to confront their mistakes in a public setting. He concludes this at least acceptable even if not ideal, in particular considering the high stakes of inadequately trained doctors (Responsa Avnei Choshen III, p. 533, per Gittin 43a).
In their work on the laws of warfare (Dinei Tzava V’Milchamah, 38), the authors stress the importance of military commanders, in recalling the mistakes of those under their command, maintaining an awareness of where the line is between that which is necessary leadership, and that which is simply humiliation of subordinates.
Call-out Culture, Anonymity, and Pashkevilin
Without the involvement of beit din or some comparable responsible body, the attitude towards using public shaming as a tool becomes markedly different, and most especially when the shaming comes from no identifiable source whatsoever. The Torah records that the Jews accepted a curse against one who would speak disparaging about another: “Cursed is he who strikes his fellow in secret”. The particular phrasing, commentaries explain, is because the damage is intensified when the speech is anonymous.
Anonymity, which is such a constant in much of digital communication and social media, was a matter of concern to rabbinic leaders of earlier generations. Around the year 5634, the great Turkish authority R. Chaim Pilagi (1788-1869) of Izmir joined with some of his contemporaries to reinforce an edict signed by earlier rabbis, banning the issuing of any anonymous letters and declarations (Masa Chaim, ma’arekhet alef, igrot). In explanation, the prohibitions of embarrassing others and causing strife were invoked. Of course, these harms can be caused by signed letters as well; implicit here was the assertion that anonymity itself exacerbates the effects of these transgressions in a significant enough fashion as to deserve specific condemnation.
The Chafetz Chaim noted, in his day, that the “pashkevilin” plastered on walls constituted this transgression and earned the accompanying imprecation (Shmirat HaLashon, Sha’ar HaZekhirah, ch. 4; Chovat HaShmirah 9:5; Kovetz Iggerot HaChafetz Chaim, letter 145). Indeed, great rabbinic authorities before and after him have issued declarations forbidding the posting of such public messages, with some also arguing for an obligation to identify and expose the authors of these statements. R. Yitzchak Feigenbaum (Responsa Yafeh L’Lev, 31) suggests that even if there were circumstances in which one of these posters carried a credible and significant message, as a matter of policy (migdar milta) they should be deemed discredited.
R. Simcha Elberg, in an article in his journal HaPardes, emphasized the additional harm that derives from anonymity. When the speakers are accountable and identifiable, there is at least hope that the statements will be rational and measured. When the voices are anonymous, there is literally no limit to how far they will go.
Today, technology greatly increases the reach of such shaming, a fundamental aspect of the severity of the prohibition. Consider Rav Kook’s language (Ein Ayeh, Berakhot) in explaining why “public” is core to the prohibition of humiliation, as such embarrassment “darkens the honor of his friend’s life in a cloud that is not erased, as the impression of the public is very powerful, and when one’s fellow’s honor falls in public, he has already lost his standing and the value of his life”. He never anticipated just how public, and indelible, an experience of humiliation could someday become.
Similarly, R. Batzri enumerates the cumulative differences between shaming before and after the advent of communications technology: many more people are now involved in the sin; the degree of embarrassment is greater; and repentance is proportionally, and exponentially, more difficult.
He also acknowledges the significant risk of allowing individual actors to wage a shaming campaign to achieve results they may deem to be justified can often involve additional violations. For example, these activists may decide that utilizing irrelevant, embarrassing information to exert pressure on the subject is acceptable, when it clearly is not.
Given all of these concerns, the existence of a “callout culture” that encourages individuals to take into their own hands the decisions of when and how to utilize the devastating tool of public shaming in order to bring about results that may otherwise be desirable is fraught with enormous risk.
Notably, in his book Hope for Cynics: The Surprising Science of Human Goodness, Jamil Zaki, while detailing some of the risks of callout culture, discusses an alternative: “many activists have little patience for anyone outside their movements. One of their weapons is ‘calling out’: publicly shaming people for inappropriate behavior. Call outs can hold power to account and expose injustice… They can also splinter social movements. Change spreads across people like a wave; some wake up to new ideas before others. [Activist Loretta] Ross thinks that when individuals bludgeon people who fail to keep up, they ‘increase the chances someone will double down and continue’ with old patterns of thought and action. These moral purity tests limit diversity of thought within social movements, freeze out potential allies, and feed what Ross calls ‘the cannibalistic mob of cancel culture’. And like other forms of cynicism, call outs deny people the capacity to change. In Ross’s eyes, these fixed views ‘mirror the prison industrial complex’ that most activists abhor. Ross offers an alternative, ‘calling in’, which she describes as ‘calling out with love’. Calling in names the harm someone does and their capacity to grow…. ‘when you ask someone to give up hate’, she reasons, ‘you need to be there for them when they do’.”
In this area, King Solomon’s warning that “death and life are in the hands of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21) may be an apt description of the distinction between speech that comes from responsible communal institutions, on the one hand, and unaccountable self-appointed individuals on the other.
