I recently finished the now-classic book Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman. It had been sitting on my shelf for many years, and I finally felt like I needed to read it, especially given the argument that our society has become post-literate. Postman’s focus is on the rise of television, and how the role of video, instantaneous communication, and entertainment and performance have negatively impacted our civil discourse, our politics, and our educational system.
What struck me the most was the foreword, written in 2006, twenty years after it was published. Postman’s son Andrew (Neil died in 2003) wrote about how much the world had changed since 1986, and how relevant the book still was – public debate had become even more rancorous, cable news created silos of information, and the internet allowed people to find not only analysis, but even basic facts. I couldn’t help but marvel how much was still to come: In 2006, there was no iPhone; social media platforms such as Facebook, Twitter and YouTube were in their infancy; and ChatGPT and Claude were more than fifteen years away from capturing our attention. There’s no doubt that our ability to have sustained dialogue, especially constructive arguments, has severely declined.
This week’s Torah portion, Parashat Korach, shows the paradigmatic way not to have an argument. In this week’s portion, Korach the Levite, along with two hundred and fifty chieftains, calls out Moses and Aaron: “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and God is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above God’s congregation?” (Numbers 16:3) In other words, why should they be the ones to lead the community?
While this certainly sounds reasonable, the commentators note that all of Korach’s group were anshei shem, “men of name” – those who had built a reputation. As a result, in Avot 5:17, the Rabbis of the Mishna draw a distinction between two kinds of arguments: an argument l’shem or l’shem Shamayim. The first one is Korach’s desire – an argument l’shem, increasing one’s name and reputation. In contrast, the Rabbis celebrate arguments that are like the second one, l’shem Shamayaim, usually translated as “for the sake of Heaven,” but also uses the word shem, representing HaShem, The Name, another word for God. Arguments aren’t bad, the Rabbis say. It’s the methodology and goals that become problematic.
And while democracy didn’t truly exist in the time of the Torah, as we move towards the celebration of America’s 250th, I can’t help but think of how crucial it has been to be able to argue well, and how much it continues to get worse and worse. In a recent article in The Atlantic, Jeffrey Rosen, CEO Emeritus of the National Constitution Center, wrote a piece entitled “American Democracy Wasn’t Designed For This.” He said,
Democracy has been resilient for a long time, but that doesn’t mean it can’t reach a breaking point. Social media is an unprecedented challenge: In every way, it represents the Founders’ nightmare. Madison wanted to slow down communication to allow for thoughtful decision-making; social media encourages instant responses and emotional, ad hominem arguments. Madison worried about factionalism; social media encourages it. More than any previous communications technology, social media has the effect of herding users into like-minded communities where they never have to hear an opposing point of view. In a 2020 article in Science, 15 psychologists and political scientists wrote that America’s political divisions were being amplified by “popularity-based algorithms that tailor content to maximize user engagement.” If the Founders had been able to spend an hour on X, they would have been a lot less optimistic about human beings’ capacity to govern themselves by reason rather than passion.
Rosen’s article reminds us that Amusing Ourselves to Death, although published in 1986 and its new foreword in 2006, have only become more prescient. The problem isn’t that we’ve lost the values of learning and building a society. We’ve lost the habits needed for democracy: Today, we struggle to be able to fully listen, reflect, or pause, and I think this will only become harder and harder over the next few decades.
So we can see Korach’s rebellion as our warning. Simchah Bunim, as quoted in Etz Hayim, notes:
The world exists on account of people who are able to restrain themselves during a quarrel. (Chullin 89a). Korah and his followers were not able to do that, so the earth gave way and swallowed them.
We shouldn’t avoid quarrels or arguments. Indeed, they are what make both Judaism and America so special, vibrant, and powerful. But in order to do so, perhaps we need to remember that Postman warned us about arguing for an audience, and Korach warned us about arguing for a name. And the antidote to both is the same: to argue, but only truly for the sake of Heaven.