With my private room,
private car, private office, private (and preferably unlisted) telephone, with
food and clothing purchased in large impersonal stores, with my own stove,
refrigerator, dishwasher, washer-dryer, I can be practically immune from
intimate contact with any other person.
(Carl Rogers) [1]
Physical communities have a depth that virtual communities cannot match...If I lie in bed sick at home in Israel, my online friends from California can talk to me, but they cannot bring me soup or a cup of tea. (Yuval Noah Harari) [2]
It is easy to define the
positive effects of technological progress. Technology introduces an enhanced ease
and comfort to the various realms of our lives. More difficult to pinpoint,
however, are the detriments that result from technological advancements. In his
book Civility, Yale law professor Stephen Carter defined “civility” as
“the sum of the many sacrifices that we are called to make for the sake of
living together.” He posited that technology has hastened the societal demise
of civility.
Carter contrasted our current, advanced mode of transportation in automobiles
to the railroads of the nineteenth century. Whereas travel in cars, “surrounded
by metal and glass” gives us the illusion of solitary mobility and the ability
to act as we please, travelers on trains were surrounded by people “packed
shoulder to shoulder like chess pieces in their little box,” which therefore demanded
appropriate behavior for a tolerable ride. He noted the regretful disadvantage
of contemporary transportation, and stated: “We care less and less about our
fellow citizens, because we no longer see them as our fellow passengers.”
A diminished sense of civility threatens more than just the societal structure
of a nation or community. It poses a danger to the well-being of every
individual. Researchers have found that strong social relationships are prone
to strengthen the immune system, extend life, speed recovery from surgery and
reduce the risks of depression and anxiety disorders.
As, Seneca remarked nearly two thousand years ago, “No one can live happily who
has regard to himself alone and transforms everything into a question of his
own utility.”
* * * *
We may detect a reality similar to Carter description in other areas of
life, as well. Consider the differences between watching a show in the theater
or on the couch of your living room, asking a stranger for directions or
following the GPS on your phone, and waiting on line for a roller coaster or
skipping to the front with a Fast Pass, to name just a few. Though many yearn
for the efficiency that will accompany the future of automated grocery
shopping, sociologist Stacy Torres demurred: “I’m not looking forward to it.
While interactions with cashiers may seem insignificant, or at times even a
nuisance, they also foster sociability between strangers.”
While we were once forced to engage in appropriate dialogue during encounters with
other people, we can now avoid all such meetings and conduct ourselves as we
wish – on our own.
* * * *
The reason for the missvah to sit in a sukkah on Sukkot is
never explicitly stated by the Torah. Instead, we are cryptically taught that
its purpose is to recall the sukkot that Bnei Yisrael dwelled in
during their sojourn in the desert:
בַּסֻּכֹּת תֵּשְׁבוּ שִׁבְעַת
יָמִים כָּל הָאֶזְרָח בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל יֵשְׁבוּ
בַּסֻּכֹּת לְמַעַן יֵדְעוּ דֹרֹתֵיכֶם כִּי
בַסֻּכּוֹת הוֹשַׁבְתִּי אֶת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּהוֹצִיאִי
אוֹתָם מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם...
In sukkot you shall dwell
seven days. All natives in Israel shall dwell in sukkot, so that your
generations will know that I made Bnei Yisrael dwell in sukkot when I brought
them out of the land of Egypt… (Vayikra 23:42-3)
The
reasoning seems to rely on a proper understanding of the constructive purpose
of dwelling in sukkot in the desert, which would thereby justify its
eternal reenactment. But what was it? What was – and is – the practical benefit
of dwelling in a sukkah?
The
Hakhamim (TB Sukkah 28b) explained that the objective of dwelling
in the sukkah over the duration of Sukkot is to mimic life in our actual
homes. And most of us actually find a fair measure of success in achieving this
feat. The food we eat, the pizmonim we sing, and the amount of time we
spend at the table in the sukkah are far more similar to the meal at
home than the picnic in the park. But truth be told, it is practically
impossible to fully “recreate” our home experience in a hut exposed to the
elements, in a location that requires constant reentrance into the home and in
quarters generally smaller than that of the dining room.
* * * *
Our
experiences in the sukkah necessarily “turn back the clock” on
technological advancements. The narrow space of the sukkah forces us to
pass the food to each other and to engage in dialogue with one another. The
experiences bring us back to a time before the space and amenities of modern
homes, and thrust upon us a heightened awareness of our surroundings and a
sensitivity to the people with whom we are sharing space.
Returning
to the terminology of Prof. Carter: Dwelling in the sukkah restores a necessary
sense of civility to the Jews of every generation by forcing their
entrance into a virtual realm unexposed to the ever-present reality of technological
solitude.
May
we spend the final days of “dwelling in the sukkah” in appreciation of
the moral and interpersonal growths inherent in its apparent “inconveniences.”