by Rabbi Yisrael Rutman

In the beginning, there was the Year in Review, in which newspapers and magazines would treat their readers to the best pictures and text about the major events of the previous twelve months. Then there was the Man of the Year, followed by the Woman of the Year. Six years ago, The New York Times started its Year in Ideas, the best, most innovative notions of the past year.

One in particular that caught my attention was “The Eye of Honesty.” A professor of psychology at Newcastle University tested the honor system and came up with surprising results. At a self-service coffee and tea station on campus at which patrons were asked to leave money for the beverages they took, the daily receipts showed that some people were not paying. Professor Gilbert Roberts pasted a picture of flowers on the wall by the coffee station for a week, followed by a picture of a pair of eyes another week, alternating them for a period of ten weeks. Patrons laid down 2.76 times more money when the eyes were posted then in the weeks when flowers graced the wall. As the Times observed, apparently, the mere feeling of being watched — even by eyes that were patently not real — was enough to encourage people to behave honestly.

A similar idea is found in Judaism. In fact, it’s so fundamental to the Jewish worldview that Rabbi Moshe Isserles, better known acronymically as the Remah, incorporated it into the very beginning of his immortal commentary on the Shulchan Aruch. ” ‘I place God before me always’ is a great rule in the Torah,’ ” he writes. “Because a person’s conduct at home with his family is not the same as when he stands before a great king…When a person takes to heart that God’s glory fills the whole world…and that He sees everything…then he will be filled with awe…” The Biur Halacha adds that whenever one is tempted to sin, he should think of God’s omniscience, that no matter how hidden his actions may be to other human beings, they are not hidden
from God.

It is a well-known fact of human nature that people do not behave in public the same way they behave in private. The psychology experiment demonstrated that the mere reminder of how embarrassed they would be to cheat the coffee station if others were watching was sufficient to influence their behavior.

The Jewish principle, of course, depends on belief in an all-knowing God. To the extent that such a belief is strong, so will be the aversion to sinning, even if no one is looking. For the eyes of God (not only Texas) are always upon him.

But sinning is not the only focus of Divine watchfulness; God is no less interested in the good we do in secret. Indeed, anonymous virtue is often the most highly valued. Thus, it is praiseworthy to give tsedakkah (charity); but it’s even more praiseworthy to do one’s giving without letting the recipient know the identity of his benefactor, so as not to embarrass him. (Although when it comes to communal giving, it is acceptable to have one’s name on a plaque on a wall of the synagogue, say, to encourage others to follow suit. The Torah proclaims Yeudah’s role in saving Yosef.)

More generally, the Talmud establishes the standard of integrity for a Torah scholar: he must be tocho k’baro, inside like his outside. In other words, that his private thoughts and conduct should match his public persona. Not only because a rabbi who does not practice what he preaches brings disgrace to the Torah, but because the ideal is not only a person who does good, but one who is good. All too often, the famous figures we are taught to admire turn out to be something less than heroic in their personal lives. (I refer you, dear reader, to Paul Johnson’s Intellectuals, or Robert Caro’s Lyndon Johnson: Master of the Senate.)

In Jewish tradition, there are 36 hidden tsaddikim (righteous persons) in every generation, in whose merit the whole world stands. The list of 36 may or may not include the wise rabbi of the congregation or the philanthropist who donated the new hospital wing. It could be the local greengrocer or a resident in an old age home that nobody comes to visit.

Whoever it is, though, it’s somebody that knows there’s an eye that’s watching, and acts accordingly.

No related posts.