How to Overcome Moral Paralysis: Advice for Yom Kippur.

According to Vox: Your Mileage May Vary - is a column offering advice that provides a unique framework for reflecting on moral dilemmas. It is based on pluralism of values - the idea that each of us has multiple values that are equally important but often contradict each other. To submit a question, fill out this anonymous form. Here’s this week’s question from a reader, compressed and edited for clarity:

Your Moral Struggle

Jewish holidays are approaching, particularly Yom Kippur - a time when people reflect on their behavior and correct their mistakes. That’s great, but I - a person who constantly suffers from excessive moral responsibility - worry about my morality and whether I am doing “THE MOST GOOD”™.

In practice, this is more paralyzing than motivating. Absorbed in the ethical implications of all possible decisions, I spend hours reminiscing about past mistakes, like an athlete reviewing recordings of their games to understand what can be done better. Guilt doesn't help, but I worry that if I let go of these concerns, I'll stop trying to become a better person and fall into moral apathy.

I have celebrated Yom Kippur for many years and don't want to just avoid this day. But the holiday causes me moral stress. How do you think I should deal with this? I want to stop feeling the guilt that holds me back.

Expert Response

Dear Scrupulous,

Have you ever heard the story of how God decided to give the Bible to living people? According to ancient rabbis, the angels did not accept this idea. They felt that humans are imperfect beings who do not deserve such a holy book; only angels can be worthy of it, so it should remain in heaven.

Moses countered their arguments by asking: what do you, angels, need with the Bible? It says not to kill, not to commit adultery, not to steal - do you have envy or other emotions that might drive you to do so? The Bible instructs to honor father and mother - but you have no parents, how would you do that? And it says to keep the Sabbath holy, but you never work, so how can you honor it by taking time to rest?

The angels understood that Moses was right. They are perfect, but they could not grasp the complex challenges faced by humans. God gives the Bible to people not to make them angels but to help them become better at being who they are: human beings with emotions, flaws, and the capacity to learn to use their capabilities in the best way.

I find great meaning in this story. I want you to notice how far this is from the demand for people to do “THE MOST GOOD”. Such phrasing hints at utilitarianism, which states that we should do those actions that bring the most good to the most people. In other words, we should optimize.

Moral optimization is possible for angels, but not for humans. We have a wealth of values that sometimes conflict, prompting us to seek balance. We are not all-knowing beings who can confidently know how to do this.

Just imagine a woman standing before a choice: to become a nun or a mother. She needs to make a choice, and no one can say which is better.

Since such complexity is embedded in human nature, being an ideal optimizing machine is impossible. The more you try, the harder it will be to truly help others, as you will simply be exhausted. An optimization approach only drains your consciousness - ultimately, you spend a lot of spiritual resources on questions that are often impossible to solve.

Instead of Optimization

Thus, instead of trying to optimize everything, you can adopt a more modest but realistic goal: to live in accordance with your values in the best way possible.

I understand that this can be frightening. Optimization is seen as less risky. It gives a sense of control and safety. The unspoken idea is that if you optimize, you won’t have to ask the question: “How could I be wrong?” But there is another way to feel safe: to acknowledge that we are imperfect and to meet moments when we do not reach the optimum.

We still need to strive to live in accordance with our values. But in those moments when we slip, we should not berate ourselves, thinking: “I have sinned!” In Hebrew, the word we usually translate as “to sin” (lachto) actually means “to miss the mark.” This reminds us that it’s okay not always to hit the target perfectly, as our decisions can be influenced by many factors.

I know you are thinking: what if adopting such a mindset leads to moral apathy? This is one of the most common objections to the practice of self-compassion. But research shows this is not the case. Specifically, psychologists have found that people with well-developed self-compassion are better at accepting their mistakes. They are more likely to want to apologize and make amends, as for them failures do not carry such devastating significance.

Yom Kippur may seem terrifying when any mistake made over the year appears fatal. But, as ancient rabbis assert, Yom Kippur should not be a sad day - it is one of the happiest days of the year! After all, on Yom Kippur, Moses came down from Mount Sinai carrying the second set of tablets with the Ten Commandments.

You may know what happened to the first set of tablets: Moses broke them upon seeing the Israelites in idolatry. Less known is that God, as the rabbis assert, reacted positively to this situation. Why? Because the first set of tablets was created exclusively by God, while the second set involved human participation: Moses chose the stones, and God added the writing. The first tablets contained only the words of the Ten Commandments - simple morality, while the second set reflects all the stories and interpretations that later Jewish sages considered.

In other words, God realized that simply giving people a list of moral rules and considering it enough was not feasible. The Ten Commandments may be sufficient for angels, but our ethical lives are too complex and multifaceted to be encompassed by a single moral foundation. God chose people instead of angels, embracing our humanity.

Thus, for the rabbis, Yom Kippur is a day of joy, as they believe that God accepts and embraces humanity in all its complexity.

Please, do not try to be more zealous than God.

When you act, try to hit the target as accurately as possible - reach a place that reflects your values. But as soon as you release the arrow, let it go.

If it turns out that you missed, that you acted suboptimally, then that’s okay. You are not an angel. You are a human being, and you are doing the best you can with what you have.

The wisdom of these millennial stories is that this is enough for God. Let it be enough for you too.

What I’m Reading

• Writing this column reminded me of the book The Mindful Self-Compassion Workbook, authored by psychologists Kristin Neff and Chris Germer. It helped me develop a self-compassion practice that, in turn, helped me deal with my moral pressure. I also recommend the eight-week self-compassion course taught by Neff and Germer at their non-profit center.

• I have always associated philosopher Thomas Nagel with questions of consciousness, but this week I learned that he is also interested in issues of religion. In the article “Secular Philosophy and the Religious Temperament,” Nagel asks: what can secular philosophy offer instead of religion? Can it answer questions about the fundamental nature of the universe and how the individual can live in harmony with it?

• In an article in Aeon, philosopher Elad Uzan argues that AI cannot solve ethics for us, despite the hopes of some people. Citing Kurt Gödel’s incompleteness theories, Uzan writes: “just as mathematics will always contain truths that go beyond formal proof, morality will always contain complexities that cannot be algorithmically resolved.”

Analyzing the provided text, we further need to highlight the importance and influence of moral self-awareness, especially in the context of Jewish holidays. Yom Kippur represents an opportunity not only for repentance but also for reflection on the balance between moral obligations and human imperfections. Only by accepting our human nature can we truly learn from our mistakes and strive for improvement without burdening ourselves with excessive guilt.