Doubling Down

…all the livestock of Egypt died, and of the livestock of the Children of Israel not one died. - Shemot 9:6

Certainly, this fifth plague, dever, which brought about the destruction of Egypt’s livestock but not the livestock of the Children of Israel would finally change Pharaoh’s mind! But no, even now Pharaoh’s heart became stubborn, “…and he did not send out the people,” (9:7)

Incredible! He witnessed the truth of God’s majesty with his own eyes and yet he refused to see. Sforno seems amazed that such an undeniable miracle could have occurred but still Pharaoh refused to relent.

If only we could dismiss Pharaoh’s behavior as unique to a tyrant’s heart. But if we did so we would miss the lesson that applies to our own lives. Over and over, when the pain of each plague becomes nearly unbearable, Pharaoh seems ready to submit and release the Israelites. Yet no sooner do conditions ease than he reverts to his familiar perspective.

Rav Leib Chasman (Limud Yomi Series 3) makes clear that Pharaoh’s behavior, far from unique to one in power is a very human response that you and I share. Like Pharaoh, when confronted with trials and tribulations, we awaken from our day-to-day lethargy and determine to “mend our ways.” In those trials, we “sort of” hear God delivering to us a message and so, in our discomfort, we are stirred to teshuva. But then, as the “crisis” eases and our fear dissipates, we snap back to our old ways as if nothing ever happened.

Just as Pharaoh did!

He saw the proof of God’s message but when the moment passed, he behaved as if it had never happened. He hardened his heart and, “…he did not send out the people.”

Rav Chasman notes that most of us view our conduct as decent and proper; we are hard-pressed to own up to our shortcomings. Even when it is obvious that we are guilty of something we rationalize and justify our behavior. Even if we utter an apology, in our souls, we will remain convinced of our righteousness.

And when our behavior is so egregious that our guilt is indisputable, rendering any rationalization laughable, what then? We do exactly as Pharaoh did; we “stick to our guns.” We remain steadfast in our beliefs, determined to avoid admitting failure or foolishness. That is, we “double down.”

Deny. Deny. And then deny some more.

The Steipler Gaon teaches that our denial does not result from ignorance, it is not a mistake. It is, rather, the result of a lack of will. It is a distortion of one’s thinking based on our physical desires (ta’ava). It is the process of altering reality to conform to what we want it to be. It is closing our eyes and believing that by doing so the realities before us cease to exist.

It is, to quote a phrase, a determination to choose our own “alternate facts”.

That is, when faced with a situation we want to be a certain way, we irrationally but quite convincingly create the sense that the situation is in fact what we want it to be. We insist that we live in the world that we want to be rather than the world of what is, turning a blind eye to anything that doesn’t comport with our “truth”.

We are aided in our denial by the yetzer ha’ra, which can twist rational thinking, distort honest evaluation and undermine good judgment. The yetzer ha’ra can convince us that no ill consequences will result from our denial. Hah! As if life would be somehow improved if there were no consequences!

Life is not, and should not be, a hefker – a free-for-all chaotic enterprise. Yet, for the denier, the lack of consequence becomes the ultimate justification of his denial. Denial, in fact, makes him so deaf and dumb to consequence that he is comfortable doing just as Pharaoh’s servants did – “leaving his workers and livestock out in the field” where they are sure to be killed by the falling “hail” of God’s judgment.

The Talmud (Yoma 38b) describes exactly how denial happens; describes how a perfectly intelligent, normal human being can fall into a convoluted and distorted abyss – and then deny it is so! This is particularly true in matters of faith, morality, and ethics. The Talmud describes that we each have an internal “GPS”; we enter the destination that we want to reach. With our destination settled, the route is a mere formality, a matter of “shortest route” and “time saved”. “If one wants to become contaminated (li’tameh) Heaven allows him to do so; if he wants to purify (li’taer) himself, Heaven assists him.”

If your destination is spiritual truth, your route will necessarily take you along Torah, Halacha, Hashkafa, Mussar and you will surely arrive at your destination. By the same token, if you choose to be in denial of all values, morals, tradition, ancestral teachings your route is less certain, but you will just as surely reach your destination.

One cannot get to Heaven by traveling the road to Hell.

You may not think there are consequences, but there are consequences.

In ancient times, denial drove the most foolish and demeaning beliefs, from the worship of inanimate objects to the sacrifice of human beings. In modern times, the denier worships at an altar of sexual perversion and substance abuse and prays to a god of insults and demeaning behavior. And, when called out on his behavior, he doubles down.

Just as in ancient times, denial can still confuse rational, intellectual examination of any matter and invite a ruach tumah, a spirit of self-indulgence, of physicality, to take hold not only of the body but the mind and spirit as well. And just like that, you are on the wrong path!

Once on such an immoral path, it is imperative that the denial itself be recognized and addressed to change directions. This was pointed out to me by my son Zev when he noted that in order for those struggling with addiction to turn their lives around, their first step must always be admitting one has an addiction if one hopes to overcome the denial that inhibits healing.

He gave me two other examples that are helpful for all of us to consider when it comes to recognizing and addressing the power of denial in our lives. He noted that many people fail to write a will – despite the absolute, one hundred percent certainty that they will one day die. The second example he gave was very interesting. The Mesilas Yesharim states that ra (evil) is so powerful that it is even able to appear as tov (good). Often, Zev observed, there are people who focus on doing chesed outside their homes even as the need within their homes is great.

They are, in effect, in denial about the right place to focus their chesed!

His second observation struck me deeply – denial need be negative! Doing chesed is always a positive and good thing. But failing to recognize where and when chesed is most needed is also a form of denial.

And yet, we deny.

Just like Pharaoh.

Precisely because not a single one of B’nai Yisrael’s livestock perished, Pharaoh understood that he would seem a complete fool for not having listened to Moshe. He knew that the ultimate outcome could be the destruction of Egypt and having to release Yisrael anyway… yet he insists on doubling down on his denial and refuses to acknowledge what is so obviously staring him in the face.

How does Pharaoh arrive at this point? Not by mistake or disregard but rather by cold, hard calculation that he is better off maintaining his delusional attitude of infallibility than acknowledging reality. This attitude comes about because rather than evaluating and reflecting on his behavior, actions, and attitudes he is locked into his self-image and pride.

Sadly, we are all able to relate. After all, don’t we revert to our “default” – the sense of self from which we derive the most satisfaction and pride, the most community honor? What we should do is continually engage in cheshbon ha’nefesh, asking ourselves constantly, “Am I on the right track? Am I doing the right thing?”

Such self-reflection grants the opportunity for regret and, with regret, repentance and change. But sadly, like Pharaoh, we dig ourselves deeper in order to cling to the illusion that, “I know exactly what I’m doing!”

Rabbi Yitzchak Zweig, in “Rabbi Packouz’s Shabbat Shalom Weekly”, suggests that denial, “…is generally used to reject realities for which we don’t want to accept responsibility and take action – to stop smoking, lose weight, or terminate a toxic relationship. In essence, denial is how people handle things that they don’t want to handle.”

This insight highlights how we will use all manner of rationalization in order to avoid making any of the changes – big or small – that could have such a powerful impact on our lives. It is easy to feel trapped like the singer of the song, “I gotta be me!”

A Pharaoh insists being a Pharaoh even when seeing and knowing that not one of Yisrael’s livestock died, and therefore, with a clear conscience, refuses to “send out the people.” Likewise, we stare reality in the face and explain it away, whether it be political reality, vaccination and medical reality, or the health of our relationships.

Denial. It is as human as breathing. Certainly, our own familiarity should help us to understand Pharaoh’s behavior. After all, we too often share it. But it does not excuse it, not in Pharaoh and not in our own lives.

We should remember that the next time we confront someone who denies reality; we can expect that they will “double down” even in the face of evidence that their behavior is hurtful and self-destructive. We need all be mindful that we all have a “little pharaoh” within us and we would do well to let that truth humble us in our own certainties.