Read the Fine Print
There is an insightful Mishnah in the third chapter of Bava Kama (3:5) which teaches a very important understanding about societal agreements. It speaks of a person carrying a beam through a public street, followed by someone carrying a barrel. If the beam breaks the barrel behind it, the owner of the beam is exempt from reimbursing the owner of the barrel, as he was walking at the standard speed. In contrast, if the owner of the beam stopped walking abruptly, he is responsible for reimbursing the owner, unless he first told him to stop. In broader terms, societal agreements depend upon both parties having reasonable awareness of the relevant facts, and a claim can only be raised when one party could not reasonably have known the risk involved.
The most recent edition of The Commentator featured an article titled “Unspoken Standards: The Problem with YU’s Dress Code Reminder.” For several reasons, the author was bothered by the recent email from the deans, which reiterated the “Guidelines for Student Dress” posted on the “Standards and Policies” page on YU’s website. The main problem expressed was that YU hadn’t emphasized the dress code in the past, which indicates that the YU administration doesn’t consider it to be significant.
However, the above Mishnah teaches us a fairly obvious reason why this challenge is misguided. When agreeing to come to YU, one must agree to the standards and policies of the university. Everyone is capable of reading them and entitled to compare their values with YU’s to evaluate whether or not it is an appropriate university to attend. To ask the institution to remind students of this rule more often is a very fair request. However, it’s wrong to suppose that this was not a “reminder” but a novel piece of information, or to suggest that it was “retroactive.” The university’s past inconsistency in emphasizing or enforcing these standards may understandably have led some students to perceive the dress code as less central to its values. Nevertheless, the recent reminder of these standards doesn’t imply that they are newly significant. Institutional enforcement can fluctuate for many reasons, and such inconsistency doesn’t undermine the existence or significance of the value itself.
Now, you might be wondering why I’m taking the time to be bothered by what seems to be an insignificant misunderstanding of YU policies. It’s because there are far greater issues that must also be addressed.
The author’s perspective that Torah Umadda does not necessarily apply to “how we dress ourselves” is as startling as it is problematic. The Torah is filled with pesukim telling us repeatedly that we must keep its laws. Supposing that belief in the Torah, even when it is accompanied by “Madda,” does not translate into action, is baffling.
The author also pointed to the broad range of Torah observance among YU’s student body as a complication in outlining what laws Orthodox Jewish tradition dictates. The suggestion that an institution striving to keep the Torah should pretend that those laws don’t exist because of the student body’s diversity reflects a key misunderstanding of how Torah law works. Law is not determined by cultural norms or personal preference. Even though people often struggle with different aspects of observance, and there are certainly different opinions about how to interpret legal texts to determine legal standards, those facts don’t indicate that religion is subjective in any way, shape or form.
On a related note, after claiming that the only accomplishment of the dress code reminder was distancing students who don’t dress in line with the rules, the author said: “This idea presents exactly why it should not become a rule enforced, as it risks creating more separation among students than celebrating the Torah environment we are meant to build together.” The bizarre implication that halachic observance is not the supreme prerequisite “Torah value” or the most basic foundation of a Torah environment, in this article and in other recent articles in other YU publications, is inaccurate.
In Parshat Behar, God says, “For to me the Children of Israel are servants; they are my servants whom I brought out of the land of Egypt. I am Hashem your God” (Vayikra 25:55). While God does see us as His children (Devarim 14:1), He also sees us as His servants. Servitude connotes being bound to the will of a master and, as we sing on Yom Kippur, “we are Your servants and You are our Master.” Therefore, we must understand that even though “it risks creating more separation among students,” it is impossible to “build a Torah environment” without enforcing halacha, the will of God, because there’s no such thing as a Torah environment without halacha.
Photo caption: An elevator in Belz Hall
Photo credit: Meir Morell
