Morality & Moralism
Pinchas 5784
“When moral worth is at issue, what counts is not actions, which one sees, but those inner principles of actions that one does not see.”
Immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals (4:407)
“A person should always be preoccupied with the Torah and the commandments, even if it is not for its own sake, for in the course of acting for some other end they will come to do it for its own sake.”
Babylonian Talmud, Pesachim 50b
If morality is defined as the guiding inner principle and motivation behind virtuous actions, then moralism is the criticism of impure intentions and ulterior motives. Is it wrong to judge others unfavourably and be moralistic, and if so, why? Although many people may assume that to be judgmental is a negative character trait, and the term is often used pejoratively, a reasoned and thought-through argument would be helpful. The question becomes not whether there might be some objective moral standard of living but rather whether there is any room for moralising about it.
In his talk delivered on parshat Pinchas in 1965 and later edited as an essay in 1970, the Rebbe examines a commentary of Rashi at the beginning of the parshah, and provides a scathing critique of moralism and judgmentalism.
One of the most consequential developments in late nineteenth-century thought, which continues to shape society today, was a broad critique of collective moral standards. Contra the belief that society is constituted by a shared morality, Nietzsche and his heirs challenged the motives and the outcomes of historical values and norms. Since the 1960s, this view has gradually infiltrated most sections of society and there has been a steady erosion of the importance of once hallowed institutions such as marriage and the family. More broadly, as a critique of systems that enable power structures to operate, thinkers like Jacques Derrida and Michel Foucault prompted a complete rethinking of nearly all academic disciplines.
As a reaction to this turn, certain thinkers, Rabbi Sacks amongst them, have dedicated themselves to arguing for the importance of morality and its necessity for a healthy society. In his final book before his untimely passing, Rabbi Sacks lays out his broad critique of a society that has succumbed to postmodern relativism and which is seemingly in terminal decline. He argues that restoring morality and reversing the Nietzschian revolution is the necessary task of our time.
In these polemics between moral philosophers and their opponents there is often a lack of focus on moralism and judgmentalism (In Morality, Rabbi Sacks briefly touches upon it on page 318). I suspect that were we to develop a more substantive critique of moralism, along the lines the Rebbe suggests, we may find that objections to some systems of morality might fall away.
In the first half of the essay, Rashi’s commentary is explained as follows: after the assassination of Zimri, the other tribes began questioning the motives of Pinchas. They recognised that Pinchas had done the right thing since it halted the spread of the plague, but they wondered whether he was driven to act by an unholy motive. How could it be that not one other person, even Moshe, was inspired and aroused to be zealous for God other than Pinchas?
As a grandchild of Yitro, who was known to have cruelly overfed his calves before slaughtering them in idolatrous rituals, maybe Pinchas had inherited a cruel streak. He was not acting out of genuine and holy zealotry, but rather he was naturally inclined to cruel acts of violence. To counter this accusation, the verse goes to extra lengths to indicate that Pinchas was also a descendent of Aaron, who was know to be a lover of peace, and to underscore how Pinchas’ actions were a reflection of grandfather Aaron, rather than grandfather Yitro. (See here for a Hebrew translation of the essay, and see here for Rabbi Sacks’ translation and adaptation)
The Rebbe proceeds to consider the broader and lasting implications of Rashi’s commentary. When we observe someone doing a good thing, even when we believe to have convincing evidence they have ulterior motives, we should not belittle or denigrate them. Whilst it is desirable to encourage someone to improve their divine service and to perform G-d’s will for the right reasons, to moralise and criticise someone for doing the right thing for the wrong reason will more likely dissuade and discourage them from Torah study and Mitzvah observance. Moreover, One can never know someone else’s motives, only G-d can. We are often deficient in information and can only have a partial view of the whole picture. There will always be an epistemic deficiency with regards to the inner workings of someone else’s mind.
We find this point echoed by Immanuel Kant in his The Metaphysics of Morals (6:447)
”The depths of the human heart are unfathomable. Who knows himself well enough to say, when he feels the incentive to fulfil his duty, whether it proceeds entirely from the representation of the law or whether there are not many other sensible impulses contributing to it that look to one’s advantage (or to avoiding what is detrimental) and that, in other circumstances, could just as well serve vice?”
As such, not only is it difficult to know the true motives of others, we cannot even be certain about our own.
Perhaps the most fundamental reason why we should not disparage people we suspect of impure motives is because a person who is engaging in religious acts for nefarious reasons is clearly instructed to continue doing so. The Talmud states (BT Pesachim 50b): “A person should always be preoccupied with the Torah and the commandments, even if it is not for its own sake, for in the course of acting for some other end they will come to do it for its own sake.” Consequently, it is entirely inappropriate to judge and criticise them when they are in fact doing the right thing.
In an innovative reading of this Talmudic injunction to ‘always be preoccupied with the Torah and the commandments, even if it is not for its own sake,’ The Rebbe explains (in the words of Rabbi Sacks):
“The Hebrew original of this statement reads, not “in the course of” but “in the midst of.” And the deep implication is that the right motive will be found “in the midst” of the wrong one: That although a Jew may formulate ulterior motives in his mind for doing G-d’s will, subconsciously, in the true depths of his being, he seeks to keep to the Torah for its own sake alone.”
Whereas Kant emphasises how we can never determine whether an action is performed solely on moral grounds, since “we like to flatter ourselves by falsely attributing to ourselves a nobler motive, whereas in fact we can never, even by the most strenuous self-examination, get entirely behind our covert incentives.” (Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, 6:407) In contrast, the Rebbe emphasises how notwithstanding our possible selfish incentives to engage with the Torah and its commandments, a person is always motivated from the deepest aspect of themselves to fulfil the will of G-d.
To go a step further, the manifestation of the true ‘midst’ of a person, according to the Rebbe, is achieved through the actual study and practice of Judaism. Although the Jew truly wants to only ever fulfil the will of G-d, the expression and awareness of that inner desire is achieved through action. In contrast to most other systems of thought that rest on an oppositional and hierarchical binary between thought and action, Jewish thought insists on the primacy of action. Only through our day-to-day engagement with the performance of Judaism, regardless of our overt intentions, can we fully realise our innate divine consciousness.