Lashon hara: A Wide Prohibition Against Talking About Others
Jewish law goes well beyond secular law in this arena, and forbids the
telling of a negative statement about another person, even if it is true.
By Rabbi Joseph Telushkin
Reprinted with
permission from The Book of Jewish Values, published by
Bell Tower.
While libel and slander, which
involve the transmission of untrue statements, are universally regarded as
immoral and generally illegal, most people regard a negative but true statement
made about another as morally permissible.
Jewish law opposes this view. The fact that something is
true doesn't mean it is anybody else's business. The Hebrew term for forbidden
speech about others, lashon hara
(literally, "bad tongue"), refers to any statement that is true but
that lowers the status of the person about whom it is said. Thus, sharing with
your friends the news that so-and-so eats like a pig, is sexually promiscuous,
or is regarded by her co-workers as lazy, is forbidden, even if true.
Admittedly, this standard is sometimes difficult to observe:
The Talmud itself concedes that virtually everyone will violate the laws of
ethical speech at least once a day (Babylonian Talmud, Bava Batra 64b-65a).
Nonetheless, those who make an effort to practice these regulations will find
that they soon start speaking about others in a far fairer manner.
When it comes to gossip, most of us routinely violate the
Golden Rule, "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you."
For example, if you were about to enter a room and heard the people inside
talking about you, what you probably would least like to hear them talking
about are your character flaws or the intimate details of your social life.
Yet, when we speak of others, these are the things we generally find most
interesting to discuss.
There are times
when it is permitted to relate detrimental information about another, but they
are relatively rare. While the fact that something negative is true might serve
as a defense against a chance of libel or slander in a court of law, it is an
invalid defense against the charge that you have violated an important Jewish
ethical law.
Why Refraining from
Lashon Hara is an Important Challenge
I know a woman who loved shrimp. When she married a religiously
observant Jew, she gave up eating this biblically forbidden shellfish, and
became an observant Jew. Several years later she commented to her husband that
she felt irreligious because she still craved shrimp. "On the contrary,"
he told her, "the fact that you want to eat shrimp, but refrain from doing
do because it's prohibited, is proof of your religiosity. The Rabbis teach that
one should not say, 'I loathe eating pig,' but rather 'I do desire it, yet what
can I do, since my Father in heaven has forbidden it?'" (Sifre Bemidbar,
20:26).
Rabbi Abraham Twerski, a psychiatrist, wisely observes that
this rabbinic dictum no longer applies to Jews who were raised in ritually
observant households. For example, the woman's husband never expressed a desire
to eat shrimp. Had he done so, he would probably have become nauseous. The
prohibition against eating forbidden foods has become so internalized among
observant Jews that refraining from such foods no longer requires any
self-sacrifice.
But there is one commandment that almost all observant—and
non-observant—Jews are tempted to violate: the ban against speaking lashon hara. Many otherwise observant
Jews frequently violate this biblical prohibition. They would do well to update
the rabbinic quote to read, "One should not say, 'I do not like to gossip,'
but rather, 'I really enjoy talking about and listening to the intimate details
of other people's lives, and discussing other people's character flaws, but
what can I do, since my Heavenly Father has forbidden it?'"
Adopting this attitude will not only lead to a diminution in
gossiping, it will also, as Twerski argues, offer a powerful lesson of true
religiosity to one's children. He advocates cutting short a discussion at the
dinner table because it is becoming gossipy, and explaining to your children
that you are tempted to continue the discussion, but that such conversations
are forbidden by God. By doing that, you can demonstrate to your children "by
living example the negation of [your] will to that of a higher Authority. It
may well be one of the few lessons they'll never forget."
Rabbi Joseph Telushkin
is the author of Jewish Literacy and Words
that Hurt, Words that Heal, along with
other widely-read books on Judaism and the "Rabbi Daniel Winter"
murder mysteries. He lives in New York City and lectures widely throughout
North America.