Chapter 26 of Mishlei deals primarily with the figures of the fool (kesil) and the sluggard (atzel), and the ways to handle such individuals. In this lesson we will examine three verses from the beginning of the chapter: the verse discussing the rod required for a fool, and the two verses that seem to contradict one another - "Do not answer a fool according to his folly" versus "Answer a fool according to his folly."
שׁוֹט לַסּוּס מֶתֶג לַחֲמוֹר וְשֵׁבֶט לְגֵו כְּסִילִים׃ (ג) - A whip for the horse, a bridle for the donkey, and a rod for the back of fools. (3)
The Malbim explains: animals possess no intellect; they lack the reason to direct themselves, and therefore they require an outside force to lead them. The horse requires a whip - with which it is struck. The donkey is denser, and even a whip does not help it; therefore, it requires a bridle. It is led through its mouth, steering it precisely where one wishes it to go and restraining it from straying off course. Man, by contrast, is endowed with free will, through which he can choose the proper path. He needs neither whip nor bridle - he directs and leads himself.
And what is a kesil (fool)? As explained previously, this does not refer to someone with low intelligence. The kesil is someone who walks in darkness, clinging to desires; driven by these desires, he pursues the very things that corrupt and ruin him. He may be very clever, yet he is overwhelmed by his appetites, and consequently, he is guided not by reason. In this respect, he resembles an animal: a horse goes after fodder simply because it feels like it, a beast sees a feeding trough and approaches because it craves it, without any intellect. So too is the fool. Therefore, "and a rod for the back of fools" - just as the horse and donkey require external direction, so too does he require a rod, and only through the rod will he be guided onto the upright path.
This is a reality, not merely advice. Often, when a person pursues his desires, the only thing that can halt him is painful blows. This does not mean that someone physically strikes him, but rather that a person suffers a blow from Heaven, and suddenly he reflects, suddenly he stops. Until now he rushed like a headlong horse after the desires of his heart, and suddenly he faces a crisis, financial ruin, or God forbid physical affliction - and he halts and begins to wonder: Is my path the right one? He begins to investigate, to ask questions, and to take upon himself spiritual resolutions. "A rod for the back of fools" - the fool who pursues his desires requires a rod to set him straight.
The Vilna Gaon is precise in reading the verse's wording. "A whip for the horse" does not mean striking the horse. The moment the horse sees the whip brandished in the air, it is already startled and starts running - much like a dog that sees from afar someone bending down to pick up a stone, and immediately flees; it remembers the experience and does not need the stone to actually strike its back. The horse is more alert; the whip does not need to land on it. It is enough for the horse to see it, draw conclusions, and break into a run. The donkey, on the other hand, cannot take a hint - its name reflects its nature. It sees the whip, but it makes no impression. For the donkey, one needs a bridle, which physically grips and pulls it.
And the fool? Neither a brandished whip nor a pulling bridle will help him. He requires a rod - an actual stick, real blows upon his back - in order to understand. As it is said: "A rebuke penetrates deeper into an understanding person than striking a fool a hundred times" - for an understanding person, a reprimand is enough: just rebuke him, say a single word, give a hint, make an expression, and he understands. But the fool requires a hundred blows before he begins to absorb and comprehend.
The Vilna Gaon explains why this is so: a horse relies primarily on its hind legs. Its strong and forceful part is its hind legs, whereas its front legs are slender; therefore, when it rears up, it stands on its hind legs and raises its forelegs. Since running is done with the legs, the horse is designed for running, and it is enough for it to see the whip behind it to break into a run. The donkey is the opposite: its support is on its forelegs, its body leans forward, its front is the strong part, and its hind legs are delicate - therefore, when it braces itself, it rests on its forelegs and kicks with its hind legs. And since bearing a burden relies on the front, the donkey is meant for carrying loads, not for running. By nature, a donkey does not run; if chased or frightened, it runs only a little, for a short distance. Therefore, it is assigned not a whip, but a bridle: with a bridle one leads, rather than drives to run. A whip acts as a threat from behind that spurs running, whereas a bridle is an instrument of guidance that gently pulls and leads forward.
And what is the allusion? The Vilna Gaon explains: character traits (middot) are termed "feet" (raglayim) - the habits (hergelim) of a person that carry and guide him. One requires ethical rebuke to walk on one's feet, and that is the whip. The horse, which relies on its legs, needs only to see the whip - and this corresponds to righteous, elevated individuals who inherently know the way; for them, merely seeing the whip is enough to take moral instruction to heart. They are the ones who run great distances, as was said of the holy Patriarchs: Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, who "ran before Me like horses through the swamps" - the idiom for a righteous person is running like a horse.
Donkeys, by contrast, represent the simpler people, the amei ha'aretz (unlearned folk), who do not know how to guide themselves along the straight path and require a bridle with which to be led. Even when they are led, this is not "Draw me after you, let us run" - they will walk, but they will not run, for their locomotion is associated with their forelimbs, and running on hands is difficult. This is what the imagery expresses: a horse is for running, and a donkey is for carrying burdens. The primary domain of the amei ha'aretz is fulfilling mitzvos, not intensive Torah study - for Torah study requires long-distance running. Hands represent carrying a burden, and a person carries with his hands: he puts on tefillin, wraps himself in tzitzis, and the like; the performance of mitzvos finds expression primarily through the hands.
It turns out that the verse is speaking of two types of people: the distinguished and the simple. For the distinguished, merely seeing the whip suffices; for the simple, a bridle is needed - guide him on the straight path and he will walk. But for the fool (kesil), who follows his heart's desires, neither of these will help. All that remains is the rod. Only when he takes a blow does he begin to recalculate his route, and only then does he begin to understand that his way is mistaken and that he must change direction.
אַל־תַּעַן כְּסִיל כְּאִוַּלְתּוֹ פֶּן־תִּשְׁוֶה־לּוֹ גַם־אָתָּה׃ (ד) - Do not answer a fool according to his folly, lest you also become like him. (4)
עֲנֵה כְסִיל כְּאִוַּלְתּוֹ פֶּן־יִהְיֶה חָכָם בְּעֵינָיו׃ (ה) - Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eyes. (5)
The Gemara raises a difficulty: these two verses contradict each other. Is it "Do not answer a fool according to his folly, lest you also become like him," or "Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eyes"? The Gemara resolves this: there is no contradiction; here it refers to matters of Torah, while there it refers to worldly matters (millei de'alma). The Vilna Gaon asks: this seems difficult to understand, for in the verses themselves there is no distinction made and no mention of matters of Torah or worldly matters - from where does the Gemara derive this distinction?
Rather, the Gemara's resolution is explicit in the verse itself. The Gemara invents nothing on its own; it simply reads the verse and uncovers what is written within it. Both verses state their own rationale. "Do not answer... lest you also become like him" describes a situation where if you answer him, you will become like him - and that applies to worldly matters. There, if someone says something foolish or provocative to you, and you answer him at his own level, you have lowered your own stature and dragged yourself down to the level of the fool. In that, "you also become like him." But regarding matters of Torah, such reasoning does not apply.
Conversely, "Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eyes" applies in a situation where by answering him, one refutes his claims; for if one does not answer, he will be wise in his own eyes and think he truly understands. He will go around boasting, "I even asked Rabbi So-and-so and he did not know how to answer." In truth, the rabbi knew, but chose not to answer; yet that person will celebrate and think he knows better than the rabbi, will act according to his error, and will teach his error to others - after all, he seemingly defeated the rabbi! In such a situation, one must answer him.
There are situations where, on the contrary, it is better not to answer and simply to leave him be. If one responds to him, one enters into an argument, causing him to double down on his views and voice them even louder, thereby simply handing him a platform. We have no interest whatsoever in providing a platform to heretics. That is why at outreach seminars for those who are not yet observant, when someone comes to attack, the speaker tells him, "I will sit with you after the lecture." First, a person who comes to challenge does not want to be humiliated in front of everyone, and so he will cling to his positions even if he is intellectually convinced - his ego will not allow him to concede. Second, there is no need for his heretical arguments to be heard by others; after all, why expose someone who was never exposed to heresy to begin with?
It is written that the ear is burned first of all limbs. Even if a person is strong in his faith and assumes there is nothing to fear, this is a dangerous misconception, for minut dimshacha - heresy attracts the human heart. It is forbidden for a person to listen to words of heresy and apostasy, even if he says, "I do not believe it." Many err in this regard, claiming: "I have a university lecturer, and I need the degree, so I have to listen." Who permitted this? Who permitted listening to words of heresy and statements contrary to the Torah? No one in the world would permit this. Words of heresy fall into the category of "be killed and do not transgress," as they are an outgrowth of idolatry (avizrayhu de'avodah zarah), yet people expose themselves out of ignorance. Reality proves that people are influenced: suddenly you see someone who was once strong in his faith saying, "I heard other perspectives, it is not so clear-cut." Where did all this come from? He listened to heresy, and the heresy pulled at his heart and led him to grave consequences.
Moreover, everything said regarding "Answer a fool according to his folly" applies only when one actually possesses the competence to answer. But if one does not have the ability to answer, it is far better to remain silent. First, he might persuade you, since you do not have answers to what he raises. Second, he will go around saying, "I spoke with a rabbi and he had no answers." Such a person does not distinguish between a young kollel student and a great Torah scholar; and even for a great scholar, if this is not his area of expertise, that is no surprise. If he asks about the eternity of the universe - what have you studied about the eternity of the universe that enables you to debate him? If you speak to him about Carbon-14, he might say, "I do not know what you are talking about." He has pure faith that the Torah says such and such, which is wonderful and as it should be, but such a person cannot confront a scientist coming with pseudo-scientific arguments to prove his agenda. In such a situation, it is far better not to argue at all and not even to offer an opinion, but rather to direct him: "Do you really want to know? I will refer you to people whose field this is." There are observant scientists who have researched the subject and know it inside and out, and there are plenty of people in the teshuvah movement for whom this is their specialty, and they will be able to answer a fool according to his folly.
In short: if someone comes to challenge or cast slurs, and his sole intention is to attack and prove that the words of the Torah are not true, and he has not come to listen and accept - it is better not to answer him, because an answer will only cause him to utter further slander. But if he truly thinks he has said something clever and wants to express an opinion contrary to Halachah, and one can answer him and he will accept it - that is fine.
A story is told about the Brisker Rav traveling on a train with his disciples. A priest was there who began proselytizing, attempting to draw the students toward belief in that man, claiming that his mother conceived through the holy spirit and other such nonsense. The disciples said to him: He was a false prophet. The priest asked them: How can you say that? They replied: The Sages lived in his generation, and they ruled that he was an instigator and subverter to idolatry who is liable to death - do you know better today than the Sages of Israel who lived back then? He said to them: They were mistaken. They challenged him: On what basis do you determine that the Sages of Israel were mistaken? He said to them: Look at Rabbi Akiva, what did he think of Bar Kochba? He was certain that he was God's anointed Messiah, and in the end it turned out he was Bar Koziva and he died - if so, Rabbi Akiva was mistaken. It turns out that the Sages of Israel were mistaken: someone who was not the Messiah they thought was the Messiah, and someone who was the Messiah they thought was not. The students were silenced and had no response.
Throughout that entire time, the Brisker Rav did not enter the debate at all; he simply sat and engaged in his learning. But when he saw that the students were stuck - the wagon was mired in the mud, and an experienced horse was needed to pull it out - he turned to that priest and asked: And who told you that Rabbi Akiva was mistaken? On what basis do you determine that he erred when he said that Bar Kochba was the Messiah? The priest replied: It is obvious he was mistaken; you see that in the end he died. The Brisker Rav said to him: If so, you too admit that a messiah who died is no messiah. And he returned to his learning.
There is no need for prolonged arguments. If one is wise, one can answer a fool according to his folly right away, without debates and without lengthy explanations, proving from his own words that he is speaking nonsense. And if not - it is better not to enter the debate at all, as one's own faith may be undermined, and the other person may think: "Look, I am right, I have answers; I asked many rabbis and none could answer me."
Rabbi Lasri related that a person once came to him and said: "Rabbi, where is it written in the Torah that one must wear a kippah? I have asked many, many rabbis and none of them knew." The rabbi said to him: "What do you mean? It is an explicit verse - 'When you leave your house, you shall cover your head.'" The man said: "Really? Rabbi, you are the first rabbi who answered me!" Of course, there is no such verse at all, but this is "answer a fool according to his folly" - he does not know our Torah anyway. Sometimes one must answer him according to his folly.
The Vilna Gaon adds a textual nuance: It says, "Do not answer a fool according to his folly." The Gemara states: "Whoever is spoken to by his fellow should not retort more than what his fellow said to him" - there are halachot even for how to argue. If someone says a certain thing to you, you are not allowed to reply with more than he said to you. It follows that strictly speaking, one is permitted to return the same measure of what was said, speaking here of the baseline halachah rather than a measure of piety (middat chasidut). And this is the precision: "Do not answer a fool according to his folly" - while to a non-fool one is permitted to respond according to the same level at which he spoke, to a fool, do not answer even according to his folly, even at that very same level. And certainly do not give him a double portion in return.
The Malbim explains: The kesil (fool), as we have learned, is a person drawn after his lusts - he may be clever, but he is driven by his desires. His desires conflict with the laws of wisdom and the laws of the Torah, and consequently he does not observe the laws of the Torah - not because he has discovered new evidence disproving the truth of the Torah, but simply because he is governed by desire.
However, he is uncomfortable presenting himself this way. If you ask him, "Why do you do such-and-such?" he will not say, "Because I am a person of desire, because I am unable to control myself, because I have a weak character." Instead, he says: "Listen, it is not entirely clear that this is forbidden, and there is no real proof that the Torah is true" - he cuts down the saplings (undermines foundational beliefs) in order to justify his desires, because he is uncomfortable stating the real reason. Incidentally, in our generation the mask of shame has fallen away. Today, a person simply says, "I feel like it," "I have a weakness for this," "I am free" - he has no problem admitting his weaknesses and feels no shame in them. In the past, a person was ashamed to say, "I have this flaw and cannot overcome it"; he felt uneasy, and as a result, he had to tailor an agenda for his actions and construct an ideology around them.
For example, in matters of modesty and forbidden relationships: a married man does forbidden things and constructs a theory - "You have to understand that a man is not built to live with one woman. Look at nature, one bull and two hundred cows, and even according to the Torah a man can marry multiple wives." Once an ideology and all sorts of learned explanations exist about how a man is built, you can do whatever you feel like. The simple truth - "I am a lustful person with a weak character who cannot control himself" - is uncomfortable for him to say, because it portrays him as undignified. Therefore, he constructs an ideology that says this is how it should be, this is how a person is required to live, and this is human nature.
If so, says the Malbim, what good will it do for me to come and refute the claims of the kesil? His problem is not logical or intellectual; his problem is desires. And when you refute his arguments, you expose him in his nakedness as a base, lustful person - so he will cling to the horns of the altar and argue with you, even though he himself knows his arguments are not genuine, because he needs an ideology that will make him feel good and justify his actions. The order for him is reversed: it is not that intellectual arguments convinced him to pursue the desires of his heart, but rather that he first wanted his heart's desires, and only then built a wall of intellectual arguments around them. If you refute his arguments, you pull the rug out from under him, and what is he left with - just a base pursuer of desire? Therefore, he will insist that he is right even after you have refuted everything.
Rabbi Tzvi Inbal, one of the lecturers and founders of the Arachim organization, a man of science and a polymath, once related that when they first began conducting seminars, the seminars were based primarily on logic and proofs for the truth of the Torah - and there are twelve independent ways to prove the truth of the Torah. Among other topics, they also gave lectures on family life and child rearing. Today, however, it works in reverse: proofs for the truth of the Torah occupy only a very small part of the lectures, while the main focus is to endear Torah observance to people's hearts and minds, addressing "Why is this good for me?" For they came to realize that proofs are not what people lack, and that is not where the problem lies.
And this is how they reached this conclusion: At that time, a seminar lasted a week, and not everyone had the free time to detach from work and children. Therefore, they decided to concentrate the evidentiary part, the proofs, into three evenings in a large hall - a sort of low-cost lecture marathon that a person could attend at the end of the workday. On the first day, the hall was packed. They presented proofs for the truth of the Torah, one piece of evidence after another, and the audience was left open-mouthed. The next day, perhaps ten percent showed up. What turned out to be the case? People fled out of fear. As long as a person thinks it is mysticism or some vague belief, he says, "Let's listen, it isn't binding." Suddenly it became clear to him that this is about proofs, and that obligates him. It came at a stage when he was psychologically unready: he is told that he must become observant, while emotionally he recoils from observant people.
From this it became clear that a much longer journey is required: first of all, for him to realize that observant Jews do not have horns and are not aliens. Once he understands this and his attitude warms toward observant Jews, observing the mitzvos will no longer seem to him like coercion or a burden he refuses to accept. Emotion plays a huge role here. Therefore, today, seminars mostly do not work on the intellect, for people's struggle today is not "Who says there is a Creator of the universe?" - eighty percent of the public fasts on Yom Kippur, and over sixty percent believe in reward and punishment, according to Guttman Institute studies. The problem is: How do you attract me to this? How do you get me to break away from my habits, my desires, my "free" lifestyle, and place myself under a yoke and restraints? The question is how to make these matters appeal to the heart and mind.
Hence, when you come to refute the proofs a person supposedly has that there is no need to keep Torah and mitzvos - that is not the issue, and it is not on account of proofs that he became a heretic. This is like the story told about the Rav of Brisk (the Brisker Rav), where a student left the yeshiva and abandoned religious observance, and some time later met the Rav. He said to him: "Honored Rav, I want you to know that I truly had questions and difficulties regarding Hashem's governance and the Creator of the universe, and because of them I left." He came offering an excuse so that the Rav would not look at him as a pursuer of lust who was merely seeking pleasures. The Rav asked him: "Tell me honestly, when did your questions begin - in the yeshiva, or after you left?" He replied: "To be honest, mostly after I left." The Rav said to him: "If so, you do not have questions; you have excuses. Answers to questions I know how to give; answers to excuses I do not know how to give."
This means: a person seeks to excuse himself, for would he ever admit, "I am driven by desire, I just feel like it"? Instead, he says, "I had questions, I did not understand Hashem's ways, there is injustice." If so, when I come and refute your excuses, will you repent? After all, the excuses were not the reason you abandoned faith. You abandoned faith because you wanted indulgence, and if this excuse is refuted, tomorrow you will search for another. And when a person simply "doesn't feel like it," you cannot convince him.
This is like parents who try to convince their child why he must tidy up his room. The child invents an excuse, they refute it; he invents a new excuse, they refute that too, and he invents yet another - and this is total foolishness for several reasons. First of all, one does not argue with a child; a child needs to know that you do not argue with Abba and Imma. The moment you enter into an argument with him - "Do not answer a kesil according to his folly, lest you also become like him" - he thinks: "Abba and I are on the same level, and as long as Abba hasn't convinced me why I should clean my room, there is no reason for me to clean it." And the proof that this is not a matter of persuasion: I gave him an argument, and he brought a new one; I refuted that one too, and he brought another. Is this a game of ping-pong? I am your father and I told you that you are cleaning the room; I am your mother and I told you that you are cleaning the room right now. In order not to be irrational people, I will explain once, and if he has a question I will give a brief answer, but one does not enter into an argument.
Is there really a legitimate disagreement here between the child and the father regarding tidying the room? He is the father and you are the child, and whatever he says, you must do. The child is searching for an excuse not because that reason genuinely exempts him from cleaning, but simply because he does not feel like cleaning; refute one excuse, and he will find another. Likewise with a daughter who does not feel like washing the dishes - you can raise any argument, and she will raise a counterargument. Is her problem really a lack of persuasion? If she is convinced that the dishes need to be washed, will everything suddenly be simple? Her problem is that the water is cold, she lacks the mood, and standing for twenty minutes or half an hour is something she just doesn't feel like doing. One can understand her, but under no circumstances should one enter into an argument where persuasion is beside the point. And even if I convince her - will that make her feel like doing it?
This is the foundation of "Do not answer a fool according to his folly": when a fool raises arguments for why he does what he does, treat those arguments at their appropriate level. These are not arguments because of which he acts; rather, because he already acts this way, he searches for excuses and constructs arguments.
We learned three levels of guidance: a whip for the horse - for distinguished people, merely seeing rebuke is sufficient; a bridle for the donkey - ordinary people need to be guided along the straight path; and a rod for the back of fools - for one who follows his desires, only a blow jolts him to recalculate his course. We also learned the distinction between "Do not answer a fool according to his folly" and "Answer a fool according to his folly": in mundane matters, one should not lower his standard and become equal to the fool; but where silence would make him wise in his own eyes and lead him to go and teach his error to others - one must answer, yet only someone capable of answering and in a domain he knows. At the core, the Malbim taught us that the fool does not suffer from a lack of knowledge, but from desire, and all his arguments are nothing more than a wall he built to justify his actions - therefore, arguing cannot solve his problem. The way forward is not by refuting excuses, but by bringing the truth close to the mind and the heart.