The Taivos Canard, Installment One: The Infuriating Canard

 

This post was originally written as an article for my magazine, Apikorsus! (now on indefinite hiatus), and is longer than my typical posts. It was meant to be the first installment of a series about the Taivos Canard. I'm posting it here because I think it's an important topic, and I intend to continue the series. I hope to post weekly until I've finished the series, but we'll see what life allows for.

I've discussed aspects of the Canard here before, and the first third or so of this article is a lightly-edited version of a post from a few years back.

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This article is the first in a series exploring and deconstructing the Taivos Canard: the accusation that we all went OTD because we’re broken.

 

Moshe sat in the waiting room, a little nervous, a little hopeful. In many ways, he was a typical yeshiva bochur. He dressed the same as the other bochurim in his yeshiva, listened to the same frum music that they did, went to the same events, and kept all of the mitzvos. Yet, in one important way, Moshe was different. He was plagued by questions of emunah. He wanted to know the reasons for mitzvos; to understand how many things accepted by his community, like segulos, worked; and to square statements Tanach and the gemara made about the world with what he knew about reality.

When Moshe had been a teenager, the principal of his high school had called Moshe into his office one day and told him that, while Yiddishkeit allowed one to ask questions, even encouraged it, he should stop asking his questions in class. These questions didn't occur to the other bochurim, the principal said, and why should their emunah chas v'sholom be weakened by Moshe's kashas?

Moshe was a good kid, and he did as the principal asked. But keeping quiet about the questions didn't make them go away. If anything, the more he learned about the world, the stronger they became. Moshe sought out and read kiruv books that promised to answer questions of emunah and prove that Yiddishkeit was correct, but they were disappointing. Every now and then Moshe would come across something that seemed convincing, that seemed like it could be the idea on which he could rebuild his emunah. Inevitably, as he thought about the exciting new concept, he would sadly realize it was full of holes. It relied on logical errors, or it didn't match up with real-world experiences, or it contradicted other things Moshe had learned in yeshiva.

 Moshe's interest in his religion blossomed into an interest in the history of Judaism, in comparative religion, in philosophy and mythology and academic biblical scholarship. The more he learned, the less tenable Yiddishkeit seemed, until one day Moshe realized that he couldn't avoid the obvious conclusion. Judaism wasn't true, and there probably wasn't a God. The realization upset him, and he felt a deep sense of loss, but there it was. Still, he thought to himself, maybe this is all just the yetzer hara, trying to convince me not to keep the mitzvos. He continued to meticulously keep the mitzvos, just in case.

 A year went by. Keeping the mitzvos while not believing in Judaism in order to make sure it wasn't the yetzer hara planting thoughts in his head was starting to feel faintly ridiculous. It would soon be time for Moshe to start dating, but how could he in good conscience go out with Bais Yaakov girls when he didn't believe? In a last-ditch effort to regain his emunah, he had a friend put him in touch with a kiruv guy. The rabbi came highly recommended, and Moshe met with him a few times to discuss his issues with Yiddishkeit. The rabbi was friendly and seemed genuinely concerned about Moshe, but like the kiruv books, his answers were disappointing. A week ago the rabbi had called Moshe with exciting news. He had gotten Moshe an appointment with a big rav, a real talmid chacham who would be able to answer Moshe's questions and help him to see that Torah and Yiddishkeit were the emes.

At last Moshe was ushered into the rav's presence. The rav asked Moshe why he had come. Moshe explained that he had questions of emunah that bothered him, and gave a few examples. The rav listened, and then gave Moshe a bracha that his emunah shelaima should return.

"I was hoping that the rav could answer some of my questions." Moshe said.

The rav quoted the Brisker Rav and said "I answer questions, not excuses." He explained, "You have decided to be porek ol, since you did not control your yetzer haras, and you found an excuse that you had 'questions,' and I don't answer excuses!"

The rav gave Moshe another bracha that he would merit teshuva shelaima, and Moshe was ushered back to the waiting room.

 

The above is a composite story, combining my experiences and those I have read or been told by others who have had the misfortune to be frum and skeptical. Elements of it would be recognized by anyone who has been in yeshiva or Bais Yaakov and questioned ikkarei emunah. I thought about theology (though I didn’t yet know the word) a lot in high school, while none of my fellow students did. I was told by my high school principal to stop asking questions in class. I wanted to understand how Judaism works and how religious ideas square with the world I experience. And I found that the more I learned about the world, about history, theology, philosophy, and science, the less tenable Yiddishkeit seemed. I have read accounts by people who continued to keep the mitzvos for years after losing their faith because they were worried that their questions might be the yetzer hara trying to fool them into giving up the mitzvos.[1] Many people have related the sadness and sense of loss they felt when they realized that Judaism wasn't true and there probably wasn't a God. And many people have talked about how maddening it was after years of searching for answers to have their sincere questions dismissed as excuses to be porek ol. The conversation between Moshe and the rav is lifted nearly verbatim from an account of an encounter between three questioning bochurim and Rav Chaim Kanievsky.[2]

Many frum people believe that Judaism is obviously correct. After all, the midrash[3] tells us that Avraham Avinu figured out that Hashem was the Master of the Universe when he was only three years old! It's obvious even to a child that Hashem is the Borei Olam! Yet if it's so obvious, how could anyone go off the derech? How could anyone disbelieve when the truth is staring him in the face? Chazal answer, "lo uvdo avodas kochavim ela l'hatir lahem arayos,"[4] "[People] don't worship idols except to permit to themselves sexual licentiousness." The person wants to do aveiros, the reasoning goes, but he can't because he knows Hashem will punish him. So he comes up with "questions" that allow him to convince himself that Hashem won't punish him after all, and he can do whatever he wants.

This is what I’ve taken to calling the Taivos Canard: the accusation that those who question the fundamental truths of frumkeit and/or go OTD are hedonistic cretins who look for kashas that are really teirutzim, excuses to allow themselves to throw off the ol hatorah and wallow in their taivos. It’s infuriating. It substitutes insults for answers. But then, it’s not meant for the person who is questioning. It’s meant for the person who is still a devout believer, and who might be swayed by the questioner. It’s an excuse not to have to even consider the questions. And, as we’ll explore in this series of articles, it’s wrong, in every way it’s possible to be wrong.

While the accusation has been around at for at least 1500 years, since the time of the gemara, it has changed significantly in the last two decades. It has evolved softer versions in response to what the frum world calls the “OTD Crisis.” As a community, frum people can't accept that someone might legitimately disagree with Orthodoxy. That would threaten their belief that frumkeit is obviously and objectively The Truth. But they also can’t simply label everyone who leaves as an evil, disgusting baal taiva. Not when the current advice of rabbonim and psychologists is to maintain contact with people who have left. You can’t maintain a relationship with an evil person. So a solution developed.

Modern psychology – the clinical/therapeutic field – has penetrated deeply into the frum world.[5] This has created both the need for a new interpretation of the Taivos Canard, and the interpretation itself. Psychology takes a more nuanced view of human behavior than “good” and “evil.” This has led to a change in the perception of someone who leaves frumkeit; from seeing them as an evil person who should be avoided to seeing them as someone acting out who can be brought back to the “right path” by loving family and friends. This creates a problem: if they aren’t evil, if they aren’t being mislead by their taivos, if in fact they are good people who have gone astray and with whom one should maintain a good relationship, then why did they leave frumkeit? The solution is that they’re teenagers acting out and rebelling, something that’s normal for teenagers; or they were abused, associate frumkeit with the abuse, and are understandably trying to distance themselves from what they perceive as the source of their pain; or they are mentally or emotionally unstable, are suffering from a psychiatric disorder, and so deserve help and pity, not condemnation.

Somehow, this new version of the Canard is both better and worse than the traditional one. On the one hand, at least it doesn’t accuse those of us who have left frumekeit of being evil degenerates. On the other, it reduces our worldviews and choices to rebellion, a reaction to victimization, or a symptom of a psychiatric disorder. Most importantly, it is still insulting, still a deflection from the real issues we bring up, and still a way to avoid addressing those issues by attacking the character of the person who brings them up. It still denigrates the questioner as a way to protect the believer from having to examine their beliefs.

While popular in the frum world, the Taivos Canard is not limited to it. Other religions often use the same “reasoning.” The Canard is so widespread and so entrenched that the names of atheistic groups from antiquity that were dedicated to living a good life through moderation are used today as synonyms for wanton hedonism. The Epicureans of Ancient Greece and the followers of Carvakas, an Indian philosopher who lived 3,500 years ago, believed in wisdom, justice, and human dignity. The best life was to be achieved by avoiding pain and seeking pleasure, but this didn’t mean wallowing in food and drink and sex. Overindulging has painful consequences, and avoiding pain was part of the equation. The goal was to balance pleasure and pain and so achieve a pleasant life.

Today their names are adjectives, used for things like epicurious.com – a recipe site. Their nuanced philosophies have been reduced to their atheism and their nuanced hedonism misunderstood as unbridled lusting after pleasure. The message is clear. The only reason someone disbelieves in religion is to justify spending their days filling their bellies with rich foods.[6] The only reason anyone leaves frumkeit is because they can’t control their taivos.

Of course, the religion that Epicureans were accused of leaving because of their taivos was Greek paganism. They can’t be accused, to paraphrase the gemara, of worshipping idols to justify following their taivos. Worshipping idols was an integral part of the religion they were rejecting! In fact, the same culture that accused the Epicureans of rejecting the gods because of their taivos would likely have leveled the same accusation at Jewish people who rejected those same gods. So who is right? Are the Greeks right that people who reject Zeus, Hera, Apollo, Demeter, and all the rest only do so because they want to wallow in their taivos? Or is the gemara right that people who worship such gods, who leave traditional Jewish practice, only do so because they want to wallow in their taivos? They can’t both be right.

This gets to one of the main problems with the use of the Taivos Canard: its myopia. Those who use it fail to recognize that they too can be accused of being blinded by their desires and biases. Are people frum because of existential dread? Does believing that the universe doesn't care about them and that their lives have no cosmic significance too depressing, and so they convince themselves that frumkeit is the truth? Is their fear of insignificance blinding them to the obvious flaws in their worldview? Is the nice lifestyle that being frum can facilitate biasing them so that they can't see the truth? No doubt a frum person would be indignant - and rightfuly so! - if they were accused of being frum for such reasons, yet they fail to recognize that those who are OTD or otherwise non-Orthodox feel the same way about having their experiences and philosophies dismissed as merely an excuse to throw off the ol haTorah because it’s convenient to their lifestyle.

The Canard is used all the time against people who go OTD. Ayala Fader’s recent book Hidden Heretics: Jewish Doubt in the Digital Age provides many examples:

·         A woman whose doubts were attributed by the male authority figures in her life to, “emotional problems, dissatisfactions, or sexual promiscuity,” an experience shared by many women who have expressed religious doubt.[7]

·         A woman whose husband, upon discovering she no longer believed in frumkeit, expressed surprise because she seemed “normal” – i.e., not mentally or emotionally disturbed, not a drug addict, etc,[8] and a frum man who blamed his wife’s doubt on a personality disorder – though she had never been diagnosed with one.[9]

·         A letter to the Hamodia in which a young man says that he has questions – and assumes there must be a psychological reason. A frum psychiatrist responds that people have questions because of their yetzer hara or because of a mental disorder, and suggests that the young man is suffering from OCD.

·         A conference for frum mental health professionals is described as having “many panels and posters on "kids at risk" and the "OTD crisis," as though going OTD were a mental disorder.

·         A man who was forced to go to a therapist for his religious doubts, on pain of his kids being expelled from their school, because his community believes that doubting frumkeit is a sign of a mental disorder.[10] The medicalizing of doubt and attributing it to a clinical psychiatric disorder is something that is common today in frum communities, and is done with the full participation of frum psychotherapists.[11] Sadly, this means that someone who is still in the frum community and seeks  help to deal with the social and emotional fallout of losing their faith has a high chance of their frum therapist seeing their doubts as a symptom of a psychiatric disorder.

It goes on and on, one story after another of people being subjected to various forms of the Taivos Canard. Perhaps the worst case of the Canard described by Fader is a woman who was diagnosed as bipolar because of her doubts. The frum therapist she saw interpreted the depression caused by the issues her doubts were causing as the depressive end of bipolar, and her friendships with men at work – because, he told her, “when men and women are friends, they're having sex” – as the sexual promiscuity often associated with mania. This is the taivos Canard taken to its logical, absurd, and dangerous extreme: people are being given psychotropic drugs because they expressed doubts about the truth of frumkeit![12] This can’t help but make one think of drapetomania, the “mental disorder” that doctors in the antebellum South theorized caused enslaved black people to want to escape from their masters. As though questioning the system you were born into is itself pathological.

There are many, many other examples of the Canard, found informally throughout the frum world and formally in its publications. One particularly upsetting example comes from a panel at the 2016 Agudah Convention titled Diving Off The Derech - The Emerging Adult At Risk Phenomenon. A speaker told a story about a yungerman who slowly lost his belief in frumekeit. He emphasized that the man was a good husband and father. The yungerman’s wife went to his Rosh Yeshiva, who told her it was just a phase, and she should ride it out. Then one Yom Kippur she got the kids ready for shul and came downstairs to find her husband eating breakfast. Motzei yom tov she took the kids and left. The speaker characterized this as the guy "walking out on his family." She left him, but apparently failure to conform to frum norms is tantamount to going out for cigarettes and never coming home. In the frum world, doubts are never legitimate. They’re always subject to the Canard, always a sign that the person who has doubts is broken, an idiot, a menuval, mentally ill, the type of person who leaves his family so he can wallow in his taivos – and never mind if he’s a good person, or if it’s his frum wife who left him. It’s his fault for being a rasha.

In a 2011 article in Ami Magazine, The imposters Among Us, people who disbelieve in frumkeit are described as having, “a sickness;” justifying their taivos; and of having a “superficial grasp” of Judaism and of the theological issues which lead to their doubt. The article cites a senior figure at Discovery who said that he has found that, “emotional problems are behind almost all kefira. ‘In addition to many other things, to stop believing is inconvenient.’ Immersed in a religious world, they are suddenly cut off from their entire milieu. ‘Why would they do it if they didn’t have some emotional issues?’”

That someone might conclude frumkeit isn’t true isn’t even considered. Which, of course, is the point of the Canard. It tells those within the frum world, and those who are questioning, that there are no real questions, nothing at all that might lead one to reasonably conclude that the tenets of Yiddishkeit aren’t true. The Taivos Canard is a trick to keep people from having to examine their beliefs and to make those who do examine their beliefs literally question their own sanity. It’s pervasive, pernicious, and dangerous. It’s condescending and infuriating, and it needs to be challenged, deconstructed, and debunked. In this series of articles, we’ll do just that.

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[1] An account of one such person’s experiences appeared in the July 2020 issue of Apikorsus! magazine under the title, “Orthoprax at Home.”

[2] Bruer, P. (2010, October 21). Al teirutzim ani lo onah teshuvos. HaShavua Retrieved from: http://shiltonhasechel.blogspot.com/2010/11/excuses-not-questions.html

[3] Sefer Ha-Yashar 9:13-19 This is a polemic against idolatry rather than an argument for God's existence or the truth of Judaism.

[4] Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 63b. This textual source for the Taivos Canard will be discussed in detail in a later article in this series.

[5] Finkelman, Y. (2011) Strictly Kosher Reading. Brighton, MA: Academic Studies Press. P. 45-53

[6] Epstein, G. (2009). Good Without God: What a Billion Nonreligious People Do Believe. William Morrow. P. 45

[7] Fader, A. (2020). Hidden Heretics: Jewish Doubt in the Digital Age. Princeton Univer-sity Press . P. 13-14

[8] Ibid. P. 106

[9] Ibid. P. 113

[10] Ibid. P. 4

[11] Ibid. P. 6-7

[12] Ibid. P. 138