Chapter 29 of Mishlei touches upon a wide array of topics: rebuke and mussar, the conduct of rulers and kings, relations between the righteous and the wicked, the upbringing of children and servants, and man's inner battle against his base inclinations. In this lesson, we will focus on two verses at the heart of the chapter - verse 11, which discusses the fool who vents his whole spirit and the wise man who calms it, and verse 12, which discusses a ruler who pays heed to false matters. As we shall see, the commentators explain both verses as referring both to one's conduct toward others and, primarily, to one's conduct toward oneself - in the cultivation of character traits and the war against the yetzer hara.
כׇּל־רוּחוֹ יוֹצִיא כְסִיל וְחָכָם בְּאָחוֹר יְשַׁבְּחֶנָּה׃ - "A fool vents all his spirit, but a wise man calms it afterward."
The Ralbag interprets "his spirit" (rucho) in the sense of desire. The fool acts upon all of his desires and cravings the moment they are aroused, "without contemplating the matter" - without first weighing: Is this necessary? Is it worthwhile? Is it proper to do this? Might I actually lose out from it? This is what people today call a "spontaneous" person. Spontaneous, personable, and sensitive - but in truth, he is acting impulsively. And is that a virtue? This is not to say that the opposite extreme is a virtue; being so sluggish that it takes two weeks to deliberate over every little thing is not a great virtue either. But thinking about an action before doing it is certainly a virtue.
Look at this in everyday life: someone barely mentioned something to you in the morning, and an hour later the item is already sitting in his house. Bought. Wait a moment, did you look into it? Did you compare prices? Do you even need it, and specifically this model? Perhaps there are better products out there? No - he saw an advertisement, got excited, and that was that. What do you think stores make a living from? From people who saw an ad, got excited, ran out to buy it, and later realized they did not need it at all, or that a different device would have suited them better - sometimes cheaper, sometimes more expensive but more practical for their needs. But he acted on excitement.
Go and ask how many people bought a robotic vacuum, and now the robot itself needs someone to clean it. It gathers dust in some corner, nobody uses it, and the cleaning lady has to clean it every two or three weeks. Why did they buy it? Because it sounded smart, it is cutting-edge technology - and anything that sounds clever appeals to us instantly. It glides silently through the house, does not disturb anyone, and you return home from work to a clean house. Someone was once asked: "Why is it stuck over here?" He answered: "You cannot have any clutter on the floor, because then it gets jammed and chokes; and you have to clear this and that off the floor beforehand. In short, I have to clean half the house before the robot can even start - so I might as well just finish cleaning it myself." And so the excitement faded, and the robot sits neglected like an upturned stone. That is the fool: he saw something, got excited, and immediately ran to buy it.
In contrast, the Ralbag explains, the wise man stills the base desire when it arises in his heart - through delay (be'ichur). What does this mean? He delays carrying it out until he can settle his mind on it. (It should be noted that in the printed text of the Ralbag it reads be'achor, but simply meant be'ichur, and later it reads be'ichur where it meant be'achor - evidently the readings were swapped.)
Consider the well-known story of the Steipler Gaon and the coat. In Siberia, the soldiers had to stand guard in bitter cold, and a single coat was passed from guard to guard. Once on Shabbat, the coat was placed on a tree, and he refused to take it down so as not to make use of a tree on Shabbat - standing on guard duty in a thin shirt in freezing temperatures. When asked: "How did you manage to withstand that?" he replied: "I told myself: this is dangerous, but for five minutes I can endure it. I stood for five minutes. Then I told myself: this is dangerous, but I can manage another five minutes. And another five minutes, and another five, until the shift ended." (Doing this is certainly not recommended, and it is known that his hearing was permanently damaged as a result.) At any rate, from this one can understand the strategy for dealing with the yetzer hara: one does not say "no" to the yetzer hara, because if you tell it no, it pushes back with force. What do you tell it? "Yes, but later." And what happens later? Once you postpone it, the urge subsides, the desire weakens, and suddenly you realize that the matter no longer appeals to you.
The yetzer hara, as the Mesillat Yesharim explains, acts like a horse rushing headlong into battle - "immediately," "do it now." And how does one fight it? The yetzer hara is Amalek, and Moshe told Yehoshua: "Go out and fight Amalek... tomorrow." That is the strategy against Amalek. It is well known that Amalek's vulnerability is precisely on "tomorrow": regarding King David it is said, "And he struck them from the twilight until their morrow," and Esther said, "And tomorrow I shall do as the king has said," as well as "And tomorrow, too, I am invited by her together with the king." The way to deal with the yetzer is not to tell it "no," but rather: "Fine, but tomorrow." Then, first of all, the yetzer ceases to push in the present moment, and by the next day, the person has calmed down and no longer feels the urge. This is what the Ralbag means: the wise man calms the base desire through delay, "for this is the remedy for these ailments" - this is the cure for illnesses of the soul, through delay.
The Ralbag offers another explanation: "in the back" (ba'achor) - by turning his back to it, turning his back rather than facing that trait, and accustoming himself to its opposite. Here we already find a different piece of advice, distinct from the first. The first said: tell the yetzer, "Fine, but tomorrow." The second says: no, absolutely not. And who followed this counsel? Yosef - "vayema'en" (and he refused), where the cantillation mark is a shalshelet. One of the troubles with the evil inclination is when we give it an opening: "sin crouches at the door." The moment you give the yetzer an opening, indicating that this thing is possible, from that point on it begins concocting plans on how to commit the transgression. What must one say to it? Absolutely out of the question! This is the meaning of "vayema'en" - "no, come what may." And the more absolute this "no, come what may" is, the greater one's power of overcoming; whereas if you leave a breach and room for an opening, the power of resistance diminishes, for you have granted a chance and a possibility to commit that sin.
As has been noted several times: a person who wants to quit smoking, but leaves a pack of cigarettes in the freezer "just in case..." - maybe guests will come - and deep down thinks: who knows, maybe someday I will go back - will indeed go back, more than once, and very quickly. But if he decided, "That is it, it is over," tore it up, and threw it in the trash - there is no absolute guarantee he will not return, but the chances that he will not are far greater. When a person leaves something for himself on "standby," it is a sign that his decision to stop is not final and absolute; but when he burns his bridges, then even if he wants to turn back, it will be difficult for him.
To summarize the two explanations: there are two paths in the battle against the yetzer here - the method of postponement, and the method of the absolute "no." And this depends greatly on a person's inner resilience: there is a person who lacks the strength to say "no," and in such a state he should say, "Yes, but tomorrow," pushing the yetzer off until he manages to overcome it.
The Malbim explains that the "spirit" (ru'ach) is the power that brings mental images to the heart - what we call imagination today. And the imagination, says the Malbim, is mostly negative: most of man's mental images are bad. What is the imagination? All the thoughts running through our minds - pride, jealousy, revenge, hatred, plotting harm against one's fellow, looking for ways to inflict damage, holding a grudge against anyone who did the slightest thing to him. All these are evil images that rise into a person's heart. And when the spirit expands and draws these images up from the depths of the soul, a storm brews across the surface of the heart, and then the driving force is aroused to act according to those images.
In simple terms: hatred could have remained dormant inside. But a person eats himself up from within - "How could he do that to me? Why did this happen?" - and he brings all these things to his heart. The heart heats up, and he goes and takes revenge, or takes action, or utters a hurtful remark. Where does the action stem from? From the fact that the spirit brought these images to the heart, and the person "stewed in his own juices," brooding and obsessing over it - and then set out to carry out the negative deed.
The fool (kesil), says the Malbim, is a person who distances himself from wisdom because of his desires, as we have explained throughout the book: the kesil is not lacking in intelligence, but is someone who follows his desires. "Gives vent to all his spirit" - there is no restraint to his spirit; he thinks and brings these images to his heart without restraint, failing to realize that he is harming himself, since conjuring up such images will eventually lead him to action, and these things will harm him.
The wise man does the exact opposite: as soon as the image rises in his heart - "he calms it" (yeshabchenah), he quiets it. The wise man is not born with refined character traits; rather, he works on them. How? The moment the thought begins in his heart, "Did you see what he did to me? He has no shame!" - he tells himself: everything is from Heaven, this is His Blessed will; after all, it is impossible for anyone to harm you unless it was decreed by Him, blessed be He. And right away, he does not fall into this trap.
And realize, this is a honey trap. A person truly loves sinking into self-pity, feeling sorry for himself - how pitiful he is, how much was done to him, how people tripped him up and harmed him, and "because of so-and-so I am suffering," and "because of this wife I ended up like this," and "because of this husband it happened." Playing the victim feels comfortable. But when a person tells himself: no, I will not play the victim; I know that this is from Him, blessed be He, and this is a test for me - and what about the other person? The Holy One, blessed be He, brought this about through him, for an unfavorable thing is brought about through an unworthy person; I do not know what sins he had that caused this to be orchestrated through him, but I have no score to settle with him, my reckoning is with the Master of the World. The wise man does not allow himself to eat himself up with those thoughts. And as has been said more than once: what will kill you is not what you eat, but what eats you. The wise man does not let these things eat him from within.
And this is "but a wise man calms it in the back": he casts down those images, fantasies, and thoughts of hatred, jealousy, and pride that rise in his heart - "in the back," to the background of the soul. He forces it downward, refusing to let those images surge inward. And when this is the case, one can overcome the desire for revenge, pride, hatred, and the rest of the bad character traits that float to the surface of the heart.
מֹשֵׁל מַקְשִׁיב עַל־דְּבַר־שָׁקֶר כׇּל־מְשָׁרְתָיו רְשָׁעִים׃ - "A ruler who listens to falsehood, all his servants are wicked."
The Gra explains: A ruler who desires to hear falsehood - all his servants are wicked, because the servants understand his mindset, and they all answer him with lies and vanity in unison. When they see that you, the ruler, do not genuinely strive for truth and are not seeking it, but rather wish to hear what pleases you, the servants conduct themselves accordingly and will tell you whatever is pleasant for you to hear. You will hear that you are victorious on all fronts, even if reality is completely different; you will hear that your garments are the most magnificent, even if it is merely the style of "the emperor's new clothes."
Rabbeinu Yonah writes in Sha'arei Teshuvah (Gate 3): We were cautioned by the Torah not to accept lashon hara, as it is stated, "Do not bear a false report," and it is stated, "A ruler who listens to falsehood, all his servants are wicked." And our Sages of blessed memory explained in Midrash Tehillim (54): When a ruler accepts lashon hara and tales of gossip, his servants become wicked and peddle gossip, in order to find favor in their master's eyes.
This is undeniably true, and it does not apply only to a monarch or governor: it can be a teacher in a classroom, a boss at work, or a father to his children. If you, as the "ruler," listen to falsehood - hearing lashon hara, accepting it, and being influenced by it - it causes all his servants to become wicked. A teacher can turn a classroom into a petty network of informants, "every man's sword against his fellow." Everyone comes and reports - this one did that, and that one acts like this - in secret, of course, but making sure the teacher is kept up to date.
And what does this cause? First and foremost, the cultivation of corrupt character traits in the student. The student gained favor and status - not through exertion, not through diligent effort, not through excelling on exams, not through reviewing the material, and not through proper conduct, but by smearing his fellow. Once he sees that you, the teacher, are receptive and eager to listen - "Really? And what did he do in the afternoon?" - he begins running surveillance and coming back to report. And he is not alone: the other students see that the teacher loves hearing gossip and is always "online," so they make sure to update him as well. The result: within the classroom you have bred hatred, alienation, and discord - all stemming from a lack of wisdom and discernment.
An incident from yeshivah ketanah illustrates this well. The mashgiach was Rabbi Ezra Nissan, rosh yeshivah of Rinat HaTorah - a talmid chacham and a master of human nature, from whom immense guidance was received. At the beginning of yeshivah ketanah, there was a student who was outstanding in every respect: brilliant, diligent, God-fearing, and meticulous in mitzvot. Yet upon entering yeshivah ketanah, he experienced a severe decline, which caused great pain to his peers. Two or three young men went to speak with the mashgiach, truly out of genuine heartache. What remains unforgettable is that the mashgiach, in modern terms, practically threw them down the stairs. Under no circumstances was he willing to listen: "How is this your business? Is this your role? What does this have to do with you?" From that moment on, it never crossed anyone's mind to come and report to the mashgiach about another student's conduct.
Often, because a person feels weak, or because his skills and knowledge are limited, he develops this dynamic to project control over his students. Later, he summons that student: "Do you think I don't know where you were yesterday? Do you think you can fool me? Let me tell you what you did." He feels formidable: nothing is hidden from my eyes; whatever moves in the yeshivah or school, I know it all. It gives him a gratifying sense of control. But what has he actually done? He has destroyed the community and its fabric from within, created a state of "every man's sword against his fellow," and established an informant network within the classroom.
A wise teacher, however, acts differently. When someone approaches him, he tells the student: "So-and-so is not your concern; you do not need to track his movements; look after yourself. I will investigate, I will observe, and I will take care of whatever is necessary." Settling for an easy life, relying on a few students who report constantly, is a life in which one destroys the classroom and destroys the students themselves - because it fosters in the student a desire to elevate himself upon the ruin of his peer; he purchases status by informing and disparaging others. And this is precisely what Rabbeinu Yonah says: his servants will become wicked and talebearers in order to find favor in their master's eyes - because they feel the need to please the boss.
The exact same thing happens in the workplace. There is always someone who goes around gossiping: "I want to tell you, so-and-so did this and that; and so-and-so said such-and-such about you." Terrible, awful things. First, this creates immense tension and animosity in the workplace, as people realize someone on the inside is feeding reports to the boss. After all, how else would the boss know people were saying this or that? True, nowadays it is not difficult: there are cameras and recordings, and the boss can be far away - say, in Metula - and know this very minute what you are doing on your computer, whether you are playing chess or decided on backgammon this time. He logs into the online cameras and instantly sees what you are doing, fulfilling what is said: "And all your deeds are recorded in a book," "an eye sees and an ear hears." But even without that, people often know: I said something, I did something, and someone relayed it to the boss. This breeds tension and suspicion - was it him? I don't think so; but he was there too; no, it couldn't be him - and turmoil begins to brew in the workplace.
And all this results from "A ruler who listens to falsehood." As a leader, you must say: "I do not want you coming to report about anyone else; I am not interested in hearing it; I have my own ways of looking into matters." In doing so, he preemptively eliminates the dynamic of talebearing and constantly smearing one another, creating a far more positive atmosphere in the workplace.
The Ralbag explains that on an inner level, "A ruler who listens to falsehood" refers to the drive aroused toward physical desires. When a person is dominated by lustful desire - which is "falsehood" - and it rules over him, directing and managing him, what is the result? The intellect itself becomes wicked and serves the will of that person's lust and passion.
As previously explained: the Holy One, blessed be He, endowed man with an intellect, and the intellect's role is to be a judge. A person is meant to present the facts before the judge, and the judge is supposed to decide - to act or not to act, to step forward or refrain, to rebuke him or keep silent, to eat or not to eat, to attend the shiur or not. In all of these matters, the intellect is supposed to rule and decide. But when a person is driven by lust, he enlists his intellect in service of his desires. Then, instead of being a judge, the intellect becomes a defense attorney: Which desire do you want? No problem, I will represent you; what you are doing is completely legitimate and fine, and know that some even say this is the right thing to do! Instead of telling a person what is right or wrong, the intellect steps in to represent him before his conscience and before others. The intellect, which was meant to evaluate, not only fails to scrutinize, but joins as a wicked accomplice to his desires.
This is the meaning of "A ruler who listens to falsehood": when falsehood rules over a person - that is, his desires, which pursue falsehood - then inevitably "all his servants are wicked." Even the intellect, which was meant to serve you and determine right from wrong, becomes a servant of desire and just as wicked, constantly looking for ways to justify every wrongdoing. Because the person wants to appease his conscience, the intellect tells him that all his deeds are upright and good.
The Malbim likewise explains the verse in an inner sense: the ruler is the heart. When the heart rules according to the laws of wisdom, its servants are naturally righteous as well. And who are these servants? The imaginations and mental images a person conjures in his heart - his thoughts and impressions, which then also follow the path of wisdom.
But when "A ruler listens to falsehood" - meaning the heart does not follow the laws of wisdom or the rules of the Torah - inevitably "all his servants are wicked." And what is the result? A person's imagination and thoughts constantly churn: "He did this to me, how can I take revenge? How can I let him get away with it? And did you see he bought a new car - where did he get the money?" Where does all of this come from - these negative character traits, looking critically at others, and harboring envy? It comes because "A ruler listens to falsehood": the ruler is the heart, and this heart follows falsehood, neither seeking Torah nor a path guided by the fear of Hashem. Naturally, the servants - the thoughts, musings, and inner imagery that ought to have been positive - turn negative, because the heart seeks out negativity. This connects to what we saw above regarding "A fool vents all his spirit," where the Malbim also explained the verse along these lines.
The two verses before us teach us how to govern the soul. "A fool vents all his spirit" - the fool translates every desire and negative impulse into action immediately, without reflection and without restraint; whereas the wise person calms them, either through delay and postponement ("Yes, but tomorrow" - the tactic used in the battle against Amalek), or by turning his back completely (be-achor), walking away entirely like Yosef's va-yema'en ("and he refused") and burning bridges. "A ruler who listens to falsehood" - one who listens to lashon hara turns his entire environment into wicked people and informers, whether in the classroom, at work, or at home; and on an inner level: when lust rules, the intellect joins it as a defense attorney instead of acting as an objective judge, and when the heart is not governed by the laws of wisdom, all of a person's thoughts and inner images turn negative. The conclusion is singular: master the heart and the ear, and then both the intellect and the imagination will serve as righteous servants.