“Ha-kol kol Yaakov v’ha-yadayim yedei Eisav – The voice is the voice of Jacob, yet the hands are the hands of Esau.” (Bereishit 27:22)
Yitzchak’s dramatic declaration captures the complexity of the episode in which Yaakov swoops in to receive the blessing instead of his older brother, Eisav.
There are all sorts of questions, interpretations, justifications, and rationalizations. I have always felt that the most straightforward explanation is that if Yitzchak didn’t want Yaakov to receive the blessings, he could have simply changed his mind. It can be compared to a mistaken beracha over food. If I make the wrong blessing over a piece of fruit, I can correct course and say the right one. Nevertheless, exploration and analysis abound.
If we take the text at face value, Yaakov was trying to fool Yitzchak into thinking that he was Eisav. He wore Eisav’s clothes. He hunted and prepared food like Eisav. And he responded to Yitzchak’s questions as if he was Eisav. When all is said and done, Yitzchak still has his doubts due to the voice. This begs the question: Why didn’t Yaakov try to sound more like Eisav? Would it have been so hard?
The answer can be found in a very clear distinction between how Yaakov speaks and Eisav speaks.
When Yaakov
enters Yitzchak’s tent disguised as Esav, he graciously invites his father to
eat:
“Kum na, sheva ve’achla mi’tzaydi - Please get up, sit and eat of
my food…” (Bereishit 27:19)
Later, when the
real Esav arrives, the contrast between invitations is stark:
“Yakum avi
ve’yochal mi’tzayd b’no - Get up, my father, and eat the food” (27:31)
Yaakov says “na – please”. Esav does not.
That was the “tell,” the clue, to Yitzchak that something wasn’t right. If Yaakov wanted to deceive his father, logic suggests he should have copied Esav precisely - tone, mannerisms, and yes, even speaking style. Yet Chazal note that Yaakov simply could not bring himself to speak brusquely. Despite the pressure, despite the mission, despite his mother’s urging, he could not omit the word “please.”
It is not merely a stylistic difference; it is a window into their souls – and ourselves.
The Midrash highlights that the word “na” is one of the Torah’s markers of derech eretz — polite, gentle, respectful behavior. Yaakov’s character was so deeply embedded with menschlichkeit that even deception could not override it. Esav, for all his genuine love for his father, did not have the same instinct. He honored Yitzchak but politeness was not part of his inner language.
This small linguistic difference helped Yitzchak sense something was off. The voice may have been disguised, the clothing altered, but the word “please” gave Yaakov away. Because how we speak is who we are. Language reveals identity; polite language reveals values.
This ancient contrast has found surprising new relevance in a modern debate: Should people say “please” and “thank you” to Artificial Intelligence (AI) systems like ChatGPT?
A recent survey found that around 70% of AI users are polite to AI systems. The majority do it simply because "it's the right thing to do." They insist that politeness is intrinsic to good communication and expresses a form of human dignity. Others argue that polite phrasing can sometimes slow down responses or cause AI systems to expend more computational resources and is a waste of energy. They claim we should be direct, efficient, and economical.
While Judaism’s view on being polite with AI has yet to develop, we know that derech eretz and menschlichkeit are part of our religious DNA.
Israelis may be known for their gruff disposition, but Jewish law presents several examples of obligatory polite behavior. It is forbidden to ignore the greetings of another and not respond to another person telling you hello, good morning, or “Shalom Aleichem.” One who ignores another person’s greetings is called a “gazlan,” and it is viewed as if one stole. Not responding to a greeting can cause enmity to spread between the two parties. It is for this reason that the Sages require one to proactively greet others, to increase love and peace and avoid potential machloket.
Please is more than a nice word. Yaakov didn’t say “please” because Yitzchak required it. Yaakov said “please” because that’s who Yaakov was. Politeness is not about the recipient. It is about the speaker. We say “please,” “thank you,” and “excuse me” not to manipulate responses, not to optimize processing time, not to conserve computational power but because polite speech shapes our character. It refines our souls. It reminds us that words matter.
ChatGPT does not need politeness, but we do. If we train ourselves to be curt and transactional with machines, we risk importing that tone into our interactions with humans. Speech patterns become habits; habits become character. And character - as the Torah repeatedly emphasizes - is destiny.
Yaakov teaches that derech eretz does not get suspended for convenience. Even at a moment of crisis, his speech remained infused with grace. That’s who he was. That’s who we need to try to be. Polite speech is not a luxury or an extra flourish; it is the foundation of being a mensch. The louder, more automated, and the more confrontational our world becomes, the more vital it is that we preserve that foundation.
“Nafshi yatza b’dabro – A person’s soul is revealed when they speak.” (Shir HaShirim 5:6) Say “please.” Say “thank you.” Say “good morning.” Not because someone – or something – else needs it. But because we do.
No comments:
Post a Comment