Harav Eliezer Eisikovits
Longing winged animals, hungry farmers and embarrassed judges gather in one courtroom. How does all this relate to the status of Mount Sinai?
Is it permissible or forbidden to fatten geese for food?
A few years ago, this strange question was placed on the podium of the Supreme Court.
The petitioners were twenty thousand edible geese who lived in the State of Israel at the time. They claimed, through their representative, the Noah Society for the Struggle against Cruelty to Animals, that their fattening caused them great sorrow and therefore should be banned. Although the Animal Welfare Law explicitly excluded the use of animals for food, the petitioners argued that the gastronomic pleasure of Foie Gras enthusiasts cannot justify the cruel practice involved in its preparation.
On the other hand, representatives of 32 Israeli farmers who made a living fattening the poultry claimed that without foie gras they would break down to heat. Freedom of occupation and the right to earn a dignified livelihood, they argued, are also worthy values that must be protected.
The discussion was also joined by fattened liver enthusiasts, who claimed that if the petition was accepted, they would find themselves sitting in front of an empty plate. After all, "human dignity and liberty" is intended to anchor the right of man to realize his desires as much as he pleases, with as few restrictions as possible on the part of the governing bodies. So, does the plight of winged animals outweigh the needs of superiors? And if so, to what extent should they be considered?
The justices scratched their heads in embarrassment at the culinary dilemma and noted in their decision that "a balance must be found between the conflicting interests." But with which telescope do you find this mysterious spot? At what stage in their legal training do judges acquire the remarkable ability to attribute its proper weight to each value?
The difficulty in deciding these questions stems from the fact that there is no one side that is wrong and another side that is right. Both sides are right. In the absence of an absolute scale of value ratings, judges are required to decide according to their own judgment and gut instincts and arbitrarily determine which is the more important value that prevails in the present case.
Knowing our excellent judges, it is easy to assume that their embarrassment did not last long. They approached the job with energy and absolute self-confidence, for at last we are dealing with Israeli judges before whom nothing will be surprising. The ruling, which illustrated one of the earliest cases of judicial activism, ruled that the fattening of geese should be prohibited even though such a prohibition did not appear in the law.
At most, however, the decision reflected the momentary balance of power within a random panel of judges. After all, had the judge been an amateur case of Foix Gras, it is quite possible that he would have given more weight to the gastronomic consideration. Similarly, if he had grown up in a family of hard-working farmers or been a devout capitalist who believed in the free market, he might have put the needs of farmers above the needs of geese.
At the end of the day, the decision reflected the internal value scale of a judge, a scale that is neither superior nor less than that of any other random person.
The way of a person who is always convinced that his personal worldview reflects the most reasonable and enlightened scale of values. It is totally human to think so. But a moral decision based on a personal gut can lead to bizarre consequences.
There is a story about a bear and a hunter who once met in the heart of the forest. The hunter opened and said, "Oh bear! I've been wandering through the snowy forest for three days and three nights now, and I'll soon freeze to death. Morality commands you to give me your thick fur so that I can warm myself in it!"
The bear answered and said, "O hunter! For three days and three nights now, nothing food has come to my lap. Morality commands that you donate your emaciated body to me so that I may break my great hunger in it!".
The two decided to gather in one cave and settling their differences in a civilized way.
At the end of an hour, the bear emerged from the entrance to the cave with delight and a smile of composure on his face.
Question: "How was this decided?"
They replied: "We have reached an agreement and now we are both satisfied. I am no longer hungry, while the hunter is wrapped in fur on all sides exactly as he requested...".
Self-interest infiltrates deep into the decision-making system until the person convinces himself that what is convenient for him is good. He does not become a corrupt person, God forbid, but simply gives added weight to values that reflect his worldview and is therefore more comfortable accepting them.
"I am the Lord your G-d," in the opening words of the Ten Commandments, holds the key to true morality. As one commentator put it: "And I went down from Mount Sinai."
The vertical, the measuring level, determines the absolute straight line with which only the integrity of the building can be measured. Without it, a person may discover that instead of a stable structure, he erected a leaning tower that is expected to collapse.
At Mount Sinai, an absolute moral level descended into the world that allows a person to strive for the good without deluding himself, because what is convenient for him is good and what he does not like is bad.
Every person in his private life is a judge, and every day many cases that require a decision are piled on his desk. Only Torah study can give him the tools necessary to make a judgment of truth. Otherwise, even a fattened goose can leave him embarrassed, wondering and confused
