Where There Are No People
“In a place where there are no people, try hard to be a person.” Opening A Jew of our time asked a simple but painful question: What is left for me if a machine can do my work faster and better, without sleeping and without getting tired? This is not a question about technology. It is a question about the soul. The Garments and the Self Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, author of the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, explains that the soul has three “garments”: thought, speech and action. These are the tools the soul puts on so it can bring itself out into the world. But they are not the soul itself. Now pay attention. “Artificial intelligence” can remember facts, write a report, and repeat what is already known. Everything it can do belongs on the side of the garment. These things are the channel, not the water. They are the vessel, not the light. More than two thousand years ago, the prophet Isaiah already cried out about this very danger: “Their awe of Me has become a commandment of people, learned by rote.” He meant serving Hashem out of habit and copying, not from the inside. Artificial intelligence is nothing new. It is the final, perfect form of “a commandment of people, learned by rote.” Where There Are No People Here Hillel the Elder, one of the greatest Sages, speaks to us from the Mishnah: “In a place where there are no people, try hard to be a person.” The teaching of the Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Hasidic movement, says that there is nothing in the world that does not hold a lesson for serving Hashem. Hashem guides every detail of the world. So what message is He sending to a generation where “there are no people,” a generation in which machines imitate thought, speech and action? What else could it be but this: try hard to be a person. Not “be a better manager,” but “be a person.” In other words, bring here what the machine does not have. Who Is That “Person”? The person this teaching in the Mishnah speaks about is not someone who knows more facts. He is someone who has in him what no machine can ever reach: A heart. This means love and awe, what our Sages call “the service of the heart.” It also means truly caring about another person. Choice. Our Sages teach a great rule: “Everything is in the hands of Heaven, except the awe of Heaven.” The machine does not choose. The person chooses. And because we choose, every single moment carries enormous weight. The power to understand. This is not memory. It is real understanding. Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi explains that the power of wisdom is the power of the original flash of insight. It is the “nothing” that sparks into a new “something.” The machine can imitate the “something,” but it never reaches the “nothing.” Responsibility. It flows from free choice and from true love. No algorithm can measure it. A Message from Above Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi writes in one of his holy letters that Hashem desires the heart. He does not want quantity, output or productivity. As our Sages say: “Hashem wants the heart.” So what is Hashem telling you when He sends machines that imitate your garments? He is saying: Stop. Stop competing on the outside playing field. The machine will always win there. But you, go inward. The machine has no way in there. Hashem is taking away the outer labels you used to define yourself. He does this to force you to find your inner core, which nothing can replace. “A piece of Hashem above, truly.” That is you. And it cannot be copied.
Putting It into Practice
Every day, during your Torah study and your prayer, ask yourself one question: Where was I a “person” today, and not just a “machine”? Where did I ask a question that came from the heart? Where did I choose, and not just react? Where was my prayer “service of the heart,” and not just a mechanical repeat of words? This is the inner work in which a machine has no share at all.
Questions and answers
Q: What is left for me if a machine can do my work faster and better?
Rabbi Landau answers: A Jew of our time asked a simple but painful question: What is left for me if a machine can do my work faster and better, without sleeping and without getting tired? This is not a question about technology. It is a question about the soul.
Q: What does "In a place where there are no people, try hard to be a person" mean?
Rabbi Landau answers: “In a place where there are no people, try hard to be a person.”
Q: How does the Tanya's teaching about the soul's garments relate to artificial intelligence?
Rabbi Landau answers: Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, author of the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, explains that the soul has three “garments”: thought, speech and action. These are the tools the soul puts on so it can bring itself out into the world. But they are not the soul itself. Now pay attention. “Artificial intelligence” can remember facts, write a report, and repeat what is already known. Everything it can do belongs on the side of the garment. These things are the channel, not the water. They are the vessel, not the light.
Q: What message is Hashem sending when He sends machines that imitate our thought, speech and action?
Rabbi Landau answers: Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi writes in one of his holy letters that Hashem desires the heart. He does not want quantity, output or productivity. As our Sages say: “Hashem wants the heart.” So what is Hashem telling you when He sends machines that imitate your garments? He is saying: Stop. Stop competing on the outside playing field. The machine will always win there. But you, go inward. The machine has no way in there. Hashem is taking away the outer labels you used to define yourself. He does this to force you to find your inner core, which nothing can replace. “A piece of Hashem above, truly.” That is you. And it cannot be copied.
Q: What should I ask myself every day during Torah study and prayer in an age of machines?
Rabbi Landau answers: Every day, during your Torah study and your prayer, ask yourself one question: Where was I a “person” today, and not just a “machine”? Where did I ask a question that came from the heart? Where did I choose, and not just react? Where was my prayer “service of the heart,” and not just a mechanical repeat of words? This is the inner work in which a machine has no share at all.