What’s Worse Than Sticks and Stones?

Science and Health

In 1835, the Chatam Sofer, Rabbi Moses Sofer, received the following question:

Regarding the shochet (ritual slaughterer) Michael Raab, who serves in a local village. He met a well-respected man, the honorable Rabbi Michael Pashkez from your esteemed congregation. Raab mocked Rabbi Pashkez by telling him that his wife had given birth to a son, and that he would like to honor Rabbi Pashkez with performing his son’s circumcision. The mocker (Raab) knew very well that the honorable Rabbi Michael (Pashkez) was extremely devoted to this commandment. So last Sunday, Rabbi Michael (Pashkez) traveled four hours from his community to that village to do the circumcision. And behold, Raab had lied to him; Raab’s wife had given birth to a girl. So Rabbi Pashkez was a laughingstock in front of everyone in that village.

And, (Rabbi Pashkez,) ‘his soul is wrapped up in this question,’ and likewise does the respected head of the beit din (religious court) come to ask, whether the shochet should be removed from his job because of the deed mentioned above or what else can be done to punish him?

Raab’s hurtful and mean-spirited prank humiliated Pashkez; but he didn’t suffer financial damages. It was unclear what sort of redress Pashkez could demand. While Halakha makes ethical demands that go beyond those of most legal codes, these too are generally not actionable.

But in this case Rabbi Sofer agreed that the beit din should sanction Raab, who as a shochet was a communal religious official. Raab’s behavior violated the prohibition of onaat devarim or verbal exploitation; and Rabbi Sofer directed the community to remove Raab from his job until he appeased Rabbi Pashkez.

In Parshat Behar, the Torah prohibits onaah, financial exploitation: “And if you sell anything to your neighbor or buy from your neighbor’s hand, you shall not oppress one another.” This prohibits predatory pricing. A seller may not charge a naive customer substantially more than the market price.

A few verses later, the Torah repeats this prohibition in more general terms, and says, “Do not oppress one another, but you shall fear your God; for I am the Lord your God.”

The Talmud interprets this second verse as prohibiting onaat devarim, verbal exploitation. There are multiple forms of onaat devarim. One form of onaat devarim involves misleading others about your intentions, such as asking questions of a salesperson when you have no interest in making a purchase. Another is playing a practical joke and sending buyers to a non-existent store. Or giving self-serving advice to others that helps you more than it helps them.

Other forms of onaat devarim cause emotional pain. The Talmud writes that, “If torments are afflicting a person, or illnesses are afflicting him, or if he is burying his children, one may not speak to him in the manner that the friends of Job spoke to him…” Job’s friends came to justify God; but when they said to Job that he must have sinned ‌to deserve his afflictions, they themselves became sinners. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

One must not embarrass a repentant person by bringing up their criminal past. Similarly, it is forbidden to embarrass a convert by treating them as unworthy of studying Torah, for how can “the mouth that ate all forms of unkosher food read the words of the divine Torah?”

What is puzzling is why price gouging and hurling insults are both called onaah. They are categorized as one sin; but what connection do they share?

Samson Raphael Hirsch offers a fascinating answer:

In both, one abuses a weak side of the other person to their detriment. In one, his ignorance about merchandise; in the other, the vulnerability of his emotions.

Onaah is defined as when one exploits the weakness of others, either in business or conversation. Financial exploitation feeds off taking advantage of the buyer’s ignorance or desperation. Verbal exploitation takes advantage of what embarrasses the other person.

We cannot understate the impact of onaat devarim. What makes bullying so dangerous is that it identifies the other person’s psychological weaknesses and weaponizes them. It finds what a person is most uncomfortable with, and exposes it.

Brené Brown has written extensively about how shame profoundly distorts one’s self-image. Shame, which often hides in secrecy and silence, is when a person believes they are “flawed and unworthy of love and belonging.”  Onaat devarim manipulates that shame and sends the other person spiraling.

This is why, when discussing the prohibition of onaat devarim, the Talmud emphasizes the severity of verbal abuse. It goes so far as to say that, “Anyone who humiliates another in public, it is as though he were spilling blood.” Verbal abuse can be soul-crushing. It targets a person’s identity, leaving them feeling ashamed and alone.

Words can leave behind the deepest scars and wounds that never heal.

But even onaat devarim has its limitations.

The Aruch HaShulchan allows one to speak harshly to a wicked person if they believe this might persuade them to change their ways.

The Sefer HaChinuch offers a lengthy defense of the right to verbally respond, when insulted, to those who have insulted you; he explains that “it is not possible for a man to be like a stone that cannot be moved” in the face of an insult. Perhaps the saintly can absorb insults in silence; but ordinary people are not expected to.

Several medieval sources mention another exception: there is no prohibition to verbally exploit someone who verbally “exploits themselves.” What this means is unclear; some understand it as meaning a person who treats themselves with disrespect in certain areas cannot demand others to offer them respect.

One fascinating interpretation of this phrase is that it refers to people who take offense too quickly. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein was asked about a case where the younger of two brothers wants to get engaged. However, his still single older brother will be upset if the younger one marries first. Rabbi Feinstein responded that the problem isn’t the younger brother’s insensitivity; it is the older brother’s envy. Otherwise, Rabbi Feinstein explains, it would be wrong for anyone to be a success; after all, there are others who can claim they are embarrassed by not being equally successful!

Sensitive language is not a simple topic. On the one hand, there is the absolute obligation to speak thoughtfully to others. The old children’s rhyme, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me” simply isn’t true. Words of insult can send people spiraling, and can destroy reputations and marriages. But on the other hand, this rhyme has the right attitude. Children must learn resilience; and all of us need to ignore the daily influx of foolishness that comes our way.

Sometimes we end up demanding a bit too much sensitivity.

In The Coddling of the American Mind, Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt describe an overprotective culture of “safetyism” that prevents young people from grappling with even minor challenges. Even mildly offensive people are immediately cancelled, lest they trigger delicate young souls. They explain how they see this as a formula for cultivating anxiety in young people. They explain that:

To Greg, who had suffered from bouts of depression throughout his life, this seemed like a terrible approach. In seeking treatment for his depression, he—along with millions of others around the world—had found that cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) was the most effective solution. CBT teaches you to notice when you are engaging in various “cognitive distortions,” such as “catastrophizing” (If I fail this quiz, I’ll fail the class and be kicked out of school, and then I’ll never get a job . . .) and “negative filtering” (only paying attention to negative feedback instead of noticing praise as well). These distorted and irrational thought patterns are hallmarks of depression and anxiety disorders…. For this reason, Greg was troubled when he noticed that some students’ reactions to speech on college campuses exhibited exactly the same distortions that he had learned to rebut in his own therapy.  

Where had the students learned these bad mental habits? Wouldn’t these cognitive distortions make students more anxious and depressed?

Fixating on language that offends us undermines resilience.

For this reason, I find myself grappling with the limits of empathetic speech. Lukianoff and Haidt have identified a real problem: too many institutions are teaching young people to notice every slight and, in turn, be less resilient. They can accurately be described as training people to “verbally exploit themselves” and take offense at microscopic and unintended insults.

At the same time, there is a powerful moral imperative of how we must treat others. The Talmud quotes a common saying, that “you shouldn’t say to a friend ‘Hang a fish for me’ if someone in his family had been hanged.” One must always try to anticipate the feelings of others.

Like in many such issues, we have to demand more of ourselves than of others. We have to train ourselves to ignore insults and be resilient; at the same time, we need to consider the pain that others carry in their hearts, and not just expect them to tough things out.

We need to be resilient in our own lives. But we must remember that words can inflict far greater harm than sticks and stones.