Any system of values set by humans can change according to needs, desires, or interests. When there is no fixed point of reference, everyone is "right," but then-what meaning does speaking of morality have? Only a system of values established by One who exists beyond the world and above humanity, unchanging and not subject to any interests, can constitute an eternal and unequivocal moral system.
Morality: Absolute Truth or Flexible Narrative?
Is radical honesty always a virtue, or can it be an affront to human dignity? Is euthanasia an act of mercy and relief, or is it murder? How should one have acted in that impossible Holocaust-era dilemma, where a parent could save their child’s life only at the expense of another’s? In such moral dilemmas, both sides of the fence can offer compelling arguments. This begs the question: are there absolute standards for morality, or is it merely an abstract concept where everyone acts according to their own judgment?
In the past, it was understood that one could speak of objective values. However, the postmodern discourse that began to spread in the 1980s introduced a new concept: the narrative. In other words, “to each their own truth.” From that point on, the claim is that there is your morality and my morality, and nothing is inherently “right” or more “just” than anything else.
Advanced mass-marketing techniques exploit this shift to reshape public consciousness so rapidly that things once deemed unthinkable become “absolute truths” just a few years later.
Consider this: Is there any chance someone could convince you to eat cockroaches? If you are certain the answer is no, the following story (documented in the Russian film Food Chooses Its Victim) might surprise you:
Two Russian oligarchs made a bet: Can people be convinced to do something that seems hopeless? They chose eating cockroaches. As part of the wager, one wealthy man committed to making his friend eat a cockroach-and to do so by choice. The film details the step-by-step process. First, he hired scientists to find a nutritional component in cockroaches that could be deemed beneficial; they found protein. News reports were then leaked to the media regarding the importance of this specific protein. Next, the media “discovered” that this wonderful protein could be found in… cockroaches. Shortly after, a food company began producing chocolate bars sprinkled with this “healthy” protein-the miraculous “roach powder.” The entire product was branded with a cute, illustrated cockroach on the packaging. Not long after the bet began, the friend took a bite of a cockroach of his own free will.
This painfully true story reveals just how malleable our emotions and instincts are. These are not minor shifts, but radical transformations. Things we believe we would never do can, with a bit of media manipulation, become completely legitimate in a relatively short time. It seems almost no one is immune to brainwashing; with enough effort, most of us can be convinced of anything-even eating cockroaches.
Laughing While Pulling the Trigger
Whether or not to eat insects is not a moral question, but it teaches us something vital about morality. If everything we believe in can change so easily, what meaning does moral discourse even have? What is the value of ideals like equality, justice, truth, integrity, or loyalty? It turns out that even the most fundamental values-such as the sanctity of human life and “Thou shalt not murder”-can be easily manipulated.
This is exactly what happened in Dr. Stanley Milgram’s famous experiment on obedience to authority. The experiment involved a real participant (the “teacher”) and an actor (the “learner”). The “teacher” was instructed to administer electric shocks to the “learner” for every mistake made on a memory task, increasing the intensity by 15 volts each time. In reality, no shocks were delivered, but the actor mimicked intense pain.
When the voltage reached 150 volts, the actor pleaded to stop. The researcher insisted the experiment continue. When the “teachers” hesitated, the researcher stated that he took full personal responsibility for the outcome. Before the study, psychiatrists predicted that only a few sadists (about 4 in 1,000) would administer the maximum shock.
The results proved otherwise: 65% of participants administered the highest shock of 450 volts. While many were visibly uncomfortable-some even breaking into hysterical laughter while performing the task-not a single participant stopped before reaching 300 volts.
Morality Without a Reference Point
It is no secret that human morality is often guided by intuition. The Hebrew expression musar klayot (literally “morality of the kidneys,” or conscience) preserves the idea that morality is something “felt in the gut.” But if morality is rooted in intuition, then it is subject to individual variation. One person is sensitive to injustice; another is not. One fumes at bribery; another is indifferent.
Intuitions also change over time. What is considered the “lowest of the low” today was once perfectly legitimate. In ancient Troy, physical prowess was everything, so “weak” infants were discarded. In the Roman Colosseum, slaves were thrown to starved beasts for public entertainment. In the U.S., cages were once fitted around the heads of enslaved people who tried to escape.
In light of this, many philosophers and psychologists argue that morality is relative. They claim everyone has their own “narrative.” For example, while everyone agrees killing is immoral, a soldier who kills a terrorist receives a medal of honor. In countries like Switzerland, there are “euthanasia” hospices where doctors inject lethal substances into patients who are tired of living. Similarly, the termination of fetuses is not considered murder by many. So, who decides when killing is moral? In today’s world, it is intuition-which rests on nothing but a “gut feeling.” Without an absolute point of reference, morality loses all meaning.
Furthermore, moral decisions are often swayed by external factors. Research shows humans do not always act rationally. One Israeli study showed that judicial decisions regarding parole were significantly influenced by how close the hearing was to the judge’s lunch break. If human judgment is this inconsistent, are we truly as objective as we think?
Stretching the Lines
The only way to achieve objective morality is to establish a reference point that defines the moral act-one that is independent of human opinion so it remains uniform and binding.
There have been attempts to create objective moral theories, most notably Immanuel Kant’s “Categorical Imperative,” which suggests one should act only according to rules they would want to become universal laws. But what if the person setting the law is a psychopath or someone who doesn’t mind societal collapse?
When morality depends solely on human whim, atrocities can occur. Adolf Eichmann’s defense at his trial was that he was “just following orders.” Following orders is generally a component of public order, but under Kant’s categorical rule, Eichmann could claim he was acting “morally” by adhering to the human-defined laws of his time.
Furthermore, without absolute definitions, moral boundaries are easily “stretched.” Nobel laureate Francis Crick once proposed in Nature that to solve overpopulation, we should simply change the definition of human life. He suggested that a newborn should only be legally considered “alive” 48 hours after birth, and anyone over 80 should be legally “dead.” He noted that for society to accept this, religious moral education must be replaced by “modern biology.” This serves as a stark reminder that only a religiously defined moral system manages to anchor these absolute values.
Who Cannot Be Swayed?
Even the greatest critics of the Torah find themselves using the phrase “Man was created in the image of God” when explaining why murder is immoral. Without it, any heinous act can be excused. The human mind can justify any decision unless it accepts, a priori, that certain laws are immutable. Morality determined by human intellect is subject to change, external influence, and whim; therefore, it lacks true permanence.
While psychology and marketing can convince almost anyone of anything, there is one exception: the Jewish moral framework. Jewish morality is determined by the Creator. The Torah we received is eternal and unchanging. It provides the standards that do not depend on human caprice, allowing for a life guided by an absolute and unwavering conscience.
Professor Dan Ariely, an expert in behavioral economics, explains that one of the interesting findings from his experiments on cheating is that dishonesty is contagious. “If you put a group of people in a room and let them play for money, then secretly add a planted player who starts cheating big, you can immediately see others begin to cheat too. Not because they suddenly think they won’t get caught, but because they assume, ‘Here it’s okay to cheat.’ If others are cheating, then so can I.” It turns out our sense of morality works comparatively-human instinct doesn’t strive to stick to a standard we think is right; it just makes sure we’re not too different from everyone else. “What everyone does” becomes the main benchmark.
Israeli researchers examined how decisions are made by parole boards in prisons and reached a clear conclusion: fatigue, caseload, and hunger all influence decision-making. In a study published in 2011 in the prestigious journal PNAS, Professor Shai Danziger and attorney Liora Avnaim-Pesso from Ben-Gurion University, together with Professor Jonathan Levav from Columbia University, analyzed over 1,000 parole requests considered across 50 full workdays.
The workdays were divided into three segments: before breakfast, before lunch, and after lunch, with roughly 10 hearings in each segment. The study found that at the start of each segment, the likelihood of early release was highest-about 65%. As the segment progressed, the approval rate steadily declined, dropping to only 10% by the end. The decrease was especially sharp in the third segment of the day, after lunch.
“After each break, the frequency of early release decisions rises again. A pause for food and refreshment restores mental resources,” explained Professor Danziger in an interview with ynet. “As mental resources deplete, decision-makers are more likely to conserve effort and choose the default option.” For prisoners, the default is usually denial of the request.
Interestingly, when parole board members and the prisoners’ attorneys were asked what factors might influence a release decision, they did not cite mental fatigue. The conclusion is that, in the absence of absolute criteria, the ability to reach truly objective decisions-unaffected by external factors-is quite limited.
In the Book of Genesis, it is told that our forefather Abraham arrived with his wife in the kingdom of Gerar. The locals took her from him, and after members of the royal household fell seriously ill, the king of Gerar was told in a dream that she was a married woman and that he must return her to her husband. Abimelech confronted Abraham, asking why he had not told him about her. Abraham replied: “And Abraham said, ‘Because I thought, surely there is no fear of God in this place, and they will kill me on account of my wife'” (Genesis 20:11).
Malbim, one of the Torah commentators, explained that even when dealing with wise and upright people, when the fire of desire to do evil burns in their hearts, reason is led astray by internal impulses that invent justifications and excuses. “There is only one force in the human soul in which we can trust not to sin,” he wrote, “and that is the trait of fear planted in the soul, from which branches one particular form: the fear of God. When the soul is filled with the fear of God, who observes both the revealed and the hidden and watches all deeds, then even when one’s impulses grow strong, fear and awe of the Great King, who sees all actions, will restrain one from doing evil.”
Researcher Joseph Overton proposed a model showing how topics once considered taboo or unthinkable can, over time, become legitimate and even popular. Examples today include pedophilia, which is controversially becoming a legal issue in parts of Europe (the European Parliament condemned Hungary’s decision to pass an anti-pedophilia law, claiming it violates EU values, principles, and law – Hungary Today, 07.09.2021), and the normalization of marrying… a robot.
The model follows several stages. Take cannibalism-eating human flesh-which is currently considered immoral. In the first stage, a speculative academic discussion is held, titled something like “Anthropology of Exotic Practices in Polynesia.” Simultaneously, a more respectable term is coined to mask its true nature, e.g., “anthropophagy.” Once the topic enters research and discussion, and abstracts or quotes from participating scholars are published, the issue moves from the “unthinkable” category into a gray area.
Next, a historical case is presented as “evidence” that anthropophagy can be legitimate. The topic then enters rational debate through a staged discussion of pros and cons. Most people still oppose the idea, but the debate itself becomes legitimate. Arguments might include “people have the right to choose what they eat,” health considerations, etc. Those opposing the phenomenon can now, supposedly, be labeled radical conservatives or backward-thinking individuals refusing to accept scientific evidence that eating humans can be normal.
In the final stages, the media amplifies the topic unilaterally, covering it through films, songs, and artists from the community.
Christopher Browning’s book Ordinary Men is one of the most influential works in the study of human evil. Browning focuses on the history of Reserve Police Battalion 101 of the German Order Police, which took part in the mass murder of Jews in Poland in 1942. The officers drafted into the unit were “ordinary people”-most were born and raised in towns that were not Nazi strongholds, came from social and economic backgrounds that did not identify with the Nazis, had an average age of 39, and were family men; they had no prior combat experience.
Although they were given the option to refuse, of the roughly 500 men, only 10-20% tried to avoid the assignment, and only 12 outright refused to carry it out. This means that 80% fully participated, resulting in the murder of approximately 38,000 Jews. It is commonly assumed that an extreme personal ideology-racist, nationalist, religious, or class-based-is required to compel people to take part in mass killings. Browning’s research, however, shows that this is often unnecessary. A variety of other factors-ranging from career ambitions and the desire for revenge, to a sense of survival in wartime and social conformity-are enough to lead many ordinary people to become perpetrators of mass murder.
Professor Dan Ariely, an expert in behavioral economics, explains that one of the interesting findings from his experiments on cheating is that dishonesty is contagious. “If you put a group of people in a room and let them play for money, then secretly add a planted player who starts cheating big, you can immediately see others begin to cheat too. Not because they suddenly think they won’t get caught, but because they assume, ‘Here it’s okay to cheat.’ If others are cheating, then so can I.” It turns out our sense of morality works comparatively-human instinct doesn’t strive to stick to a standard we think is right; it just makes sure we’re not too different from everyone else. “What everyone does” becomes the main benchmark.
In the Book of Genesis, it is told that our forefather Abraham arrived with his wife in the kingdom of Gerar. The locals took her from him, and after members of the royal household fell seriously ill, the king of Gerar was told in a dream that she was a married woman and that he must return her to her husband. Abimelech confronted Abraham, asking why he had not told him about her. Abraham replied: “And Abraham said, ‘Because I thought, surely there is no fear of God in this place, and they will kill me on account of my wife'” (Genesis 20:11).
Malbim, one of the Torah commentators, explained that even when dealing with wise and upright people, when the fire of desire to do evil burns in their hearts, reason is led astray by internal impulses that invent justifications and excuses. “There is only one force in the human soul in which we can trust not to sin,” he wrote, “and that is the trait of fear planted in the soul, from which branches one particular form: the fear of God. When the soul is filled with the fear of God, who observes both the revealed and the hidden and watches all deeds, then even when one’s impulses grow strong, fear and awe of the Great King, who sees all actions, will restrain one from doing evil.”
Christopher Browning’s book Ordinary Men is one of the most influential works in the study of human evil. Browning focuses on the history of Reserve Police Battalion 101 of the German Order Police, which took part in the mass murder of Jews in Poland in 1942. The officers drafted into the unit were “ordinary people”-most were born and raised in towns that were not Nazi strongholds, came from social and economic backgrounds that did not identify with the Nazis, had an average age of 39, and were family men; they had no prior combat experience.
Although they were given the option to refuse, of the roughly 500 men, only 10-20% tried to avoid the assignment, and only 12 outright refused to carry it out. This means that 80% fully participated, resulting in the murder of approximately 38,000 Jews. It is commonly assumed that an extreme personal ideology-racist, nationalist, religious, or class-based-is required to compel people to take part in mass killings. Browning’s research, however, shows that this is often unnecessary. A variety of other factors-ranging from career ambitions and the desire for revenge, to a sense of survival in wartime and social conformity-are enough to lead many ordinary people to become perpetrators of mass murder.
Israeli researchers examined how decisions are made by parole boards in prisons and reached a clear conclusion: fatigue, caseload, and hunger all influence decision-making. In a study published in 2011 in the prestigious journal PNAS, Professor Shai Danziger and attorney Liora Avnaim-Pesso from Ben-Gurion University, together with Professor Jonathan Levav from Columbia University, analyzed over 1,000 parole requests considered across 50 full workdays.
The workdays were divided into three segments: before breakfast, before lunch, and after lunch, with roughly 10 hearings in each segment. The study found that at the start of each segment, the likelihood of early release was highest-about 65%. As the segment progressed, the approval rate steadily declined, dropping to only 10% by the end. The decrease was especially sharp in the third segment of the day, after lunch.
“After each break, the frequency of early release decisions rises again. A pause for food and refreshment restores mental resources,” explained Professor Danziger in an interview with ynet. “As mental resources deplete, decision-makers are more likely to conserve effort and choose the default option.” For prisoners, the default is usually denial of the request.
Interestingly, when parole board members and the prisoners’ attorneys were asked what factors might influence a release decision, they did not cite mental fatigue. The conclusion is that, in the absence of absolute criteria, the ability to reach truly objective decisions-unaffected by external factors-is quite limited.
Researcher Joseph Overton proposed a model showing how topics once considered taboo or unthinkable can, over time, become legitimate and even popular. Examples today include pedophilia, which is controversially becoming a legal issue in parts of Europe (the European Parliament condemned Hungary’s decision to pass an anti-pedophilia law, claiming it violates EU values, principles, and law – Hungary Today, 07.09.2021), and the normalization of marrying… a robot.
The model follows several stages. Take cannibalism-eating human flesh-which is currently considered immoral. In the first stage, a speculative academic discussion is held, titled something like “Anthropology of Exotic Practices in Polynesia.” Simultaneously, a more respectable term is coined to mask its true nature, e.g., “anthropophagy.” Once the topic enters research and discussion, and abstracts or quotes from participating scholars are published, the issue moves from the “unthinkable” category into a gray area.
Next, a historical case is presented as “evidence” that anthropophagy can be legitimate. The topic then enters rational debate through a staged discussion of pros and cons. Most people still oppose the idea, but the debate itself becomes legitimate. Arguments might include “people have the right to choose what they eat,” health considerations, etc. Those opposing the phenomenon can now, supposedly, be labeled radical conservatives or backward-thinking individuals refusing to accept scientific evidence that eating humans can be normal.
In the final stages, the media amplifies the topic unilaterally, covering it through films, songs, and artists from the community.
The simple coachman lived his life according to moral standards that seemed acceptable to him-until one day, a special passenger he carried taught him a remarkable lesson.
It happened in a remote town in Poland many years ago.
Tzvi was a simple coachman who knew little beyond his trade. He had never learned to read or write, and the laws of the Torah were mostly unfamiliar to him. Even as a young boy, he had held the whip in his hands and guided the horses with rough skill. No one had bothered to teach him, and the community he grew up in was far from exemplary. It was no surprise, then, that when his horses were hungry, he would simply lead them into someone else’s fields to satisfy their hunger.
One day, while Tzvi wandered the roads in search of a suitable passenger, he suddenly saw a bearded Jew standing at a crossroads, waiting for a coachman to pick him up and take him to the nearby town.
“Get on!” Tzvi called to the bearded man, who quickly climbed onto the wagon and thanked him warmly.
The journey passed pleasantly. Tzvi did not know it, but the passenger he had picked up was none other than the Chafetz Chaim, one of the greatest sages of that generation. The sage sat and studied from a book he carried, softly singing the words, while the coachman-pleased by the smooth ride-felt a lightness in his spirit.
The horses, however, were less patient. The experienced coachman noticed immediately but chose to ignore it, though the hungry horses eventually stopped along the way, refusing to obey his whip, which he preferred to delay until the end of the journey.
Seeing that his horses were stubborn, Tzvi decided to stop in a nearby field and let them eat their fill. The field belonged to a private owner, but this detail did not trouble the coachman in the least.
Still, not wanting to get into trouble, Tzvi was careful that no one would notice his daytime theft.
He asked his esteemed passenger for help: “Please watch all around, and if you see anyone approaching, shout immediately so I can be cautious,” Tzvi said to the Chafetz Chaim, who quickly jumped from his seat and led the horses to the nearby field.
The horses had barely begun to nibble the fine grain when Tzvi heard the passenger shout: “Look! Look!”
Panicked, Tzvi grabbed the reins and scanned the horizon, but there was no one in sight. Perhaps he had imagined it, he thought, and let the horses eat freely.
Suddenly, he heard the passenger’s voice again: “Look! Look!” The tone left no doubt-this was no joke, the passenger was speaking the truth. Yet when Tzvi lifted his eyes, still, no one was visible.
“Who’s there?!” the coachman asked the Chafetz Chaim, angry. “Are you trying to fool me?”
“God forbid! I am not fooling you,” the Chafetz Chaim quickly explained. “It’s just that Heaven sees you…”
Tzvi then realized that he had been looking everywhere-except up. He had forgotten to look toward the sky.
