On Knowing How to Learn, Part II

A case study of academic brilliance

The recent discussion on “knowing how to learn” featured Dr. Slifkin’s well worn condescension toward the likes of R’ Chaim Soloveitczik and R’ Moshe Shapiro, contrasted with his obsequious reverence for “critical thinking and academic approaches”.

Underlying the entire presentation and subsequent conversation was a self assured assumption that the ‘academic’ approaches to Torah analysis actually are more grounded and given to objective critical thinking. Strangely, few people with actual experience in learning tend to come away with that impression.  Many of Dr. Slifkin’s readers may not have much exposure to the academic literature and may therefore take his sentiments as authoritative; we therefore feel it worthwhile to address this point directly.

Slifkin mentioned Dr. Marc Shapiro as a leading authority whose more grounded approach to learning Rambam negates much of the traditionalist pilpulim. Indeed, Dr. Shapiro is an idol of sorts in the world of academic Torah scholarship, and his work is indicative of the best the genre has to offer. Below we will present an analysis of one of his classic essays[1], to see if we can learn to appreciate the level of grounded, critical thinking that so enamors Dr. Slifkin and, er, “Fozziebear”. 

(The following paragraphs are an excerpt from a much larger piece devoted to analyzing the academic approach. Further excerpts may follow, but for now this sampling more than suffices for our purposes.)

A common cause of faulty methodology is the academic’s lack of traditional anchors. Under constant pressure for their next contribution to the scholarly community, and refusing to accept normative parameters as binding (especially in ‘non-halakhic’ matters), they often resort to staking out some pretty far out there positions.

The traditionalist – who sees his role as to understand the mesorah, not to circumvent it – generally stays close enough to solid ground as to be able to scramble back if the going gets rough. The academic, on a lifelong quest for the next new twist or age old myth to overturn, cannot afford such luxuries.

Far out positions are usually far out for a reason. The path to defending them is therefore often marked with muddled reasoning and defective logic. Of course, academics hardly have a monopoly on bad svaros; the massive volume of maseh u’matan d’oraisa assures that there’ll always be some less than airtight arguments to be found. But the academic’s eagerness to venture beyond the shadowy borders of acceptability necessitates their use almost as a matter of course. The pompous presentation makes the silliness more insidious, but also all the more comical upon discovery.  

Some years back, then Chief Rabbi of England Jonathon Sacks published a book arguing for the end of Judaism’s rejection of the truths of other faiths. In pre-modern times, Sacks maintains, “it was possible to believe that our truth was the only truth, our way the only way.” But in the age of globalism we can hear G-d’s voice in that of the “Hindu, Sikh, Christian, or Muslim” (Rachmana litzlan)[2].

Of course, just about twice a week another book comes out that undermines the essence of Yahadus. But as this particular offering could have been legitimized by the author’s title of ‘Chief Rabbi’, the Gedolei Yisroel felt it important to issue a proclamation stating that Rabbi Sacks’ ideas do not represent their brand of Judaism.

Dr. Marc Shapiro, University of Scranton professor and vocal critic of ultra-orthodox excesses, does not cotton to the idea of ‘book bans’ not one little bit[3]. He therefore took pen in hand to establish that “hareidi assertions that the Chief Rabbi’s comments are a denial of foundational Jewish belief [were] wide of the mark”.

Now, you and I may find it difficult to Jewishly justify a book which rejects the notion that “one G-d entails one faith, one truth, one covenant”, and claims that there is “truth, even sanctity” in the other religions[4] (Rachmana litzlan). But that is just one more reason why you and I don’t hold the prestigious Weinberg Chair of Judaic Studies at Scranton. In an article entitled “Of Books and Bans”[5] Shapiro manages to do so by means of an assortment of logical gymnastics and intellectual sleights of hand. His piece is enormously instructive for our purposes, as he collects no less than four different such feats in one place. We have managed to identify a) the fudged quotation, b) the red herring, c) equivocation, and d) begging the question. These and similar tactics are found throughout the literature, but as Shapiro obligingly provides them all in the space of a few pages, we will use his article as a case study.

Shapiro begins by discussing if the fact that other religions worship false gods is grounds for unacceptability from a Jewish perspective. He acknowledges that condemnation of gentiles worshipping avodah zarah is seemingly the Talmudic approach and is codified by the Rambam. However, “that is not the only perspective our tradition offers”. The contrary view, he tells us, comes from the more tolerant approach of the Meiri:

“For example [Meiri] describes the idolatrous nations, those not ‘restricted by the ways of religion’ as violent people ‘who are possessed of no religion in the world and do not yield to fear of a Divinity and, instead, burn incense to the heavenly bodies and worship idols, paying no head to sin.”[6] Elsewhere he states, concerning the idolaters of old: ‘They were not restricted to the ways of religion, every sin and everything repulsive was fit in their eyes[7].’”

Shapiro sees this Meiri as describing that idolatry is wrong only because they lack any fear of divine punishment, which in turn leads to a society unrestrained by any moral standards. Therefore, he posits, Meiri’s approach allows for religious acceptance of “even the archetypal pagan of the Orient” so long as we can observe that they are not evil people.

As a general rule, source fudging tends to come in one of two forms. There are those where the disingenuousness becomes apparent by looking up the quote, analyzing its real meaning in context, and finding the subtle misapplication based on the underlying rationale of the subject matter. And then there are those where you just have to look it up. As it happens, this instance is a case of the latter.

The first Meiri quoted is from a discussion of if a non-Jew is assumed to be a molester or murderer. If so, one should not leave a child with him, nor sell him material that can be used to make weapons (so as not to be complicit in any crimes he will later commit). The Meiri specifies that the idolaters who have no fear of a divinity are indeed suspected of such behavior.

Idolatry is not at all the subject of the discussion. It is mentioned here only as a point of reference – what type of fellow you shouldn’t hire as your babysitter. Never is there any indication that the problem of idolatry is anything other than what everyone knows it is – that the Al-mighty commands all peoples to recognize His sovereignty. The only inference to be made (and indeed, no inference is necessary, as the Meiri says it explicitly), is that if you know a non-evil gentile you don’t have to suspect him of molestation or murder. The second Meiri quoted is from a discussion of a similar nature (whether one should save a gentile whom we assume regularly harms others).  

Moving on, Dr. Shapiro devotes the next several pages to establishing that there is a position in rabbinic literature that non-Jews are no longer bound by the sheva mitzvos bnei Noach. Indeed such a minority opinion does seem to exist, mostly pointing to gentile unwillingness or inability to keep even those seven mitzvos, which led Hashem to remove the obligation from them and place it on Klal Yisroel. The primary source for such a view is Bava Kama 38a, where R’ Yosef explains “Ra’ah v’yatir goyim” as that Hashem removed the mitzvah aspect of the seven mitzvos from the nations. The Gemara there appears to limit the point to a downgrade in terms of the level of reward they receive for keeping the seven mitzvos. But a few authorities take it further, and understand that they are no longer required at all to follow these mitzvos.[8]

Of course, nothing in these Rishonim lends credence to the condoning of these practices amongst the nations; the discussion is simply a technical one about their culpability for transgression. As such it does nothing to bolster Sacks’ thesis that there is “truth, even sanctity,” in other religions. Shapiro is aware of this, and after much posturing points out that:

“Thus far we have spoken only of the negative and shown why the common notion that idolatry is prohibited is not without dissent. But what about the positive side, which Sacks stresses, that other religions have real, objective truth? Can we find support for this notion in the tradition?”

To this end, Shapiro devotes exactly one paragraph, followed by one more discussing the ‘sanctity’ contention. We will return to these points shortly.

The lopsided structure of Dr. Shapiro’s presentation is at first confusing, and then illuminating. He is actually employing a tactic of argumentation known as the red herring – a lengthy digression who’s entire function is to distract from the relevant issue. This is a critically important tactic in radicalistic literature, where the author tries to give the appearance of grounding to some new idea he just made up out of his hat. We would do well to learn how to recognize it.

Consider. The point under discussion here is Sacks’ radical statement that Judaism sees truth and sanctity in avodah zarah. Whether or not ra’ah v’yatir goyim means that gentiles no longer get punished for transgressing the seven mitzvos is almost entirely beside the point. Of course, Shapiro finds it important to mention, because if a gentile is chayiv misah for a practice it would be quite laughable to suggest that that practice is recognized as sacred[9]. But the point is thoroughly peripheral and does nothing to support the actual thesis in contention (taken on its own, even if the technical prohibition of the seven mitzvos was repealed, it still leaves idolatry with the same moral standing as murder and theft). Yet almost the entire essay is devoted to references and arguments related to this side point. A total of seven columns are spent on the ra’ah v’yatir goyim issue, and one paragraph apiece on the ‘truth’ and ‘sanctity’ points that Shapiro has come to defend.

The purpose here is obvious. If someone were to set out to defend Sacks’ fundamentals-shattering proposition, and put before the jury two speculative paragraphs, one suggesting a possible twist on a Rambam to allow for ‘truth’ and another suggesting a twist on a ma’amer Chazal allowing for ‘sanctity’, he’d be laughed out of court. Only by padding the argument with pages of erudite sounding references and digressions can this dissertation be presented to the public with a straight face. After all, we have here an article in favor of Sacks’ position – and look! – there are tons of respectable names in the footnotes. Sacks must be very well grounded indeed.

In this sense, the obfuscating rambling is not merely a product of poor idea economy; it is a matter of professional necessity. In a world of naked emperors clarity is a vice rather than a virtue, as it lays bare the lack of any worthwhile point. Keep an eye out for this next time you feel intimidated by a brilliantly worded and copiously referenced academic argument that gives you the faint feeling of having the wool being pulled over your eyes[10].   

*

And what indeed does the esteemed Professor of Judaic Studies dig up to justify the idea that other religions contain theological truths? Why, he finds support for this from no less an authority than Maimonides himself[11]. After all, the Rambam tells us the reason Hashem orchestrated the spread of Christian and Islamic belief over a previously pagan world is:

“’To clear the way for King Messiah, to prepare the whole world to worship G-d with one accord.’[12] In other words, both of these religions in fact contain truth, and serve to move society closer to a pure view of G-d.[13]”

Equivocation is the logical fallacy of using a term with multiple meanings, and pretending that one of the other meanings applies to your case simply because of your use of the term. The common examples center around humorous wordplay. Aspirin makes headaches go away; noisy boys are a real headache; so if I pop two aspirin the little brats will disappear. And so on. The obvious point being that although both statements are perfectly true, and both statements use the same word, the conclusion is incorrect because it assumes that the word carried the same meaning in each case.

Here Shapiro provides another splendid example. If you’ve been keeping track at home, he originally set out to demonstrate traditionalist support for Sacks’ idea that other religions contain truth. Of course, what Sacks means by ‘contains truth’, and what the Gedolim found untenable, is the radical idea that theological tenets propagated by other religions in opposition to Jewish theological tenets can somehow be true[14]. For this, Shapiro finds a Rambam that says that some other religions ‘contain truth’ in the sense that they borrowed and echo certain Jewish theological tenets[15]. The words ‘contain truth’ may be the same, but the difference in meaning  forestalls any possible use of this Rambam for Shapiro’s purposes.

And what in fact does the Rambam feel about those elements of Christianity and Islam that are not borrowed from Judaism? Let us continue reading the Rambam from where the Professor left us off. (No doubt Shapiro’s truncating the Rambam at this point was inadvertent. He probably ran out of paper or something).

“How does this work? [Because of these religions] the world is already full of talk of Mashiach, the Torah, and mitzvos. [And what do they say about the mitzvos?] Some say they are true but no longer apply in these days, others say the messiah has already come and shown that they are not to be taken literally. But when the true Mashiach will arise and be victorious they will all recant and realize that they have inherited falsehood from their ancestors, and that their prophets and fathers had led them astray.”

Finally, we arrive at the most extreme aspect of Sacks’ world view. Can Shapiro find rabbinic basis for even the assertion that other religions contain sanctity? Well, you be the judge. In his words:

“The Talmud speaks of prophets who were sent to the nations of the world (Bava Batra 15b). Their role was to bring G-d’s word, and it is certainly possible that this word could exist in the framework of another religion.”

The most basic problem with this interpretation is that it is ridiculous. We feel it a fair guess that in the fifteen hundred years since those words were written, Marc Shapiro is the first to imagine that when Hashem sent prophets to the nations, it was to urge them to deny His sovereignty in favor of wood and stone[16]. However there is something more subtle at play here as well, which, if we can learn to identify, would help us recognize fallacious reasoning throughout the literature.  

Let’s think for a moment. What can drive an intelligent person to suggest that G-d would send prophets to spread profane beliefs amongst the nations? Ah, but the point is that Shapiro contends that other religions may contain sanctity. If that were true, then it indeed would be “certainly possible that this word could exist in the form of another religion.”

The problem is that this is exactly the point in contention, which Shapiro tells us he is demonstrating Talmudic basis for. In other words, his interpretation of the Gemara is only tenable if you take his conclusion as a premise. Without first establishing Sacks’ doctrine, the only possible understanding of the Gemara is the obvious and straightforward one – that Hashem sent prophets to the nations to exhort them to follow in His ways[17]. 

It is a common fallacy of logic to assume one’s conclusion to be true, and then cite it as an explanation or proof of itself. The stuffy chemist explains that his sleeping draught works because of its soporific qualities. Or the earnest revolutionary insists that freedom of speech is beneficial for the state because it is in the best interests of the community that every man enjoy the liberty to express his sentiments[18]. The people who spend time categorizing such things call it begging the question. It equally describes one who drastically reinterprets a fairly straightforward Chazal based on a radical new idea, and then tells us that the Chazal therefore provides a basis – his only basis – for that radical idea.

For all his pretense, Dr. Shapiro never does provide basis for Sacks’ incoherent rewrite of ikrei hadus.[19] But he does manage to demonstrate how a scholar intent on a particular conclusion can mangle sources and misunderstand their ramifications, all the while projecting a smug air of expertise.

The article was written a number of years ago, and the topics it discusses are not necessarily the hot button issues of today. But the basic methods remain exactly the same. Some fantastical new idea is spun from whole cloth, and then propped up by loose inferences from out of context or misunderstood sources. The scholar is usually secure in his amateurish malpractice, because his academic colleagues, who largely share his agendas and who subsist almost exclusively on secondary literature, are unlikely to look to critically at the logic before seizing on his work as a reference[20]. Two or three citation generations later, the source is enshrined as authoritative. Subsequent scholars can then knowledgably quote, “As Joe Farblunget has demonstrated, the prevailing view amongst 13^th Century French Talmudists was yadi yadi yada”, without caring or even knowing that Joe Farblunget has in reality demonstrated nothing at all.    

It is important to realize that “Of Books and Bans”, and countless other articles like it, are well received in the academic community.  Chin tugging scholars earnestly debate its finer points, some applauding its “courageous” conclusions, others taking issue with a detail here or there. To this day it is still occasionally cited, and its author is touted as “of the most important and influential committed religious Jews alive today”. That the offering is naught but hot air; a collection of misquotes and non-sequiturs intended only as filler for an article whose last paragraph was clearly written long before the rest of it, is never noted and possibly not noticed. The subjects cheer dutifully as the Emperor marches by, entirely in the buff.       

***

The mountains of baseless – often meaningless – conjecture are a natural outcome of the working environment from which they emanate. The fact is that most well developed fields simply contain relatively few groundbreaking insights waiting to be discovered. But an academician isn’t one until he brings something to the table, and ‘sheds new light’ on his subject. In this culture of publish or perish, a good portion of dissertations are more likely to be the scrapings of a professor desperately searching for a new angle by which to maintain his relevance.

The traditional student of Torah labors under no such constrictions. Certainly, the temptation to impress with elaborate creative edifices can, and sometimes does, lead to intellectual flights of fancy. But they are not a prerequisite for the scholar’s self-respect or peer recognition. This is because he toils in Torah for its own sake and values Torah knowledge independent of innovation.

It is yet another application of “We toil and receive reward; they toil and do not receive reward”. As explained by the Chafetz Chaim in his classic mashal, the cobbler who hammers away for weeks but doesn’t produce a marketable product emerges empty handed for all his efforts, whereas labor toward understanding Torah is rewarded for its own sake. The academic without a new twist on things is, of course, in the same unfortunate position as the shoemaker with nothing to sell.  

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[1] Though the essay was written a number of years ago, I’m told that Dr. Shapiro still stands by it. Readers are of course welcome to reach out to him directly to verify that. 

[2] It is important to remind ourselves that we are not here to engage on the actual ideas propagated in the book. We are taking for granted that most readers instinctively recognize Sacks’ assertions to be intellectually ridiculous and religiously beyond the pale. Our goal here is simply to see what we can learn about methodology and tactics by analyzing the discussion.

It's also important to note that Rabbi Sacks’ sentiments were quite undefined and it’s possible that he himself would not agree with Dr. Shapiro’s characterization of his position.

[3] The contentious issue of ‘book bans’ is not the subject of the current essay. But it bears mention that the treatment of the topic does provide another instance of cheap wordplay and false associations being used to invent an issue where none exists. Shapiro and others like to conjure up an image of black robed Jesuits forcibly seizing volumes for public burning and threatening the full force of the inquisition on anyone caught with a clandestine copy. What rabbinic ‘book bans’ are in fact is the Rabbis informing those who choose to look to them for guidance that, in their opinion, this is not the sort of book that should be read by a believing Jew. Other than the unfortunate but inevitable hurt feelings on the part of the author, this is about as dramatic as any other halachic or hashkafic directive. In real terms, there is little difference between R’ Elyashiv putting out a kol korei against a book and Dr. Shapiro putting out a blog post against the latest perceived travesty at Artscroll, other than the fact that a large group of people take R’ Elyashiv’s opinions seriously. 

Yes, I’m aware that this footnote provides a perfect opportunity to derail the conversation and ignore every single point we made above. We’ll take the risk. 

[4] As Dr. Shapiro explains, Sacks does not mean ‘truth’ in the sense that other religions teach that, say, murder is wrong. He is propagating the existence of theological truth and sanctity in other religions.

[5] Edah Journal 3:2 (Elul 5763).

[6] Beis HaBechira to Avoda Zarah (ed. Sofer) p. 39.

[7] Ibid., p. 59.

[8] This view is rejected by the Rambam along with the vast majority of meforshim, who assume that even today a ben Noach is obligated to follow the sheva mitzvos.

The alternative view can also be read into the Gemara in Bava Kama without too much trouble, but seems difficult to square with Avodah Zarah 6a-6b. There we are taught that under the rules of lifnei iveir it is prohibited to assist a gentile in transgressing one of the seven mitzvos. This obviously means that the gentile is still bound by these mitzvos, otherwise lifnei iveir would be meaningless.

Rashi, who appears to take ra’ah v’yatir goyim literally, notes this problem (AZ 6a s.v. v’lifnei iveir) . His solution is that although the mitzvos were removed, the gentiles will eventually be punished for their inability to stick to them. Rashi apparently understands that the technical individual issur on each mitzva no longer applies, but there will still be a general culpability on the gentiles for their disinterest that led to this point. An individual gentile who does follow these mitzvos would presumably absolve himself of this communal punishment. Therefore, assisting a gentile in transgressing would still be an issue of lifnei iveir (possibly, the lifnei iveir here is more in the ‘eitzah rah’ sense than in the sense of enabling an aveirah).

This nuanced approach is echoed by the Ramah M’Pano. In responsa 123 he assumes that eiver min hachai does not constitute a technical issur for a gentile. Therefore it cannot be employed toward building an issur kollel for a Jew, which would create a double transgression for eating a gid hanasheh from a live animal. However, in responsa 30 he assumes it lifnei iveir to assist a gentile in transgressing. He explains, almost verbatim from Rashi, that despite ra’ah v’yatir goyim the gentiles will still eventually be punished.

Dr. Shapiro, who missed or ignores the Gemara in Avodah Zarah entirely, cites responsa 123 in support of his position, and casually comments that Ramah contradicts himself in responsa 30. As we have seen, an internal appreciation of the subject’s subtleties reveals both assertions to be in error. 

[9] That the Rambam and almost every other commentator of the last thousand years do indeed assume that the mitzvos are still in effect does not perturb Dr. Shapiro. After all, “minority views have a place in Jewish tradition, especially when dealing with matters of Jewish thought which by their very nature do not require a practical halakhic ruling”. Somehow, in Dr. Shapiro’s mind the question of whether non-Jews are obligated in the sheva mitzvos is purely a matter of hashkafa.

It is beyond the purview of this essay to debunk this current wildly popular idea that in non-halachic matters every Tom, Dick, or Harry can unilaterally choose to buck the entire Jewish mainstream in favor of a minority opinion he likes better; we hope to return to it at a later date.

[10] In truth, purely for the preservation of clarity, we have been overly generous with Dr. Shapiro’s position. Almost every source he brings is either misunderstood or irrelevant.

The Abarbanel in Melachim is not discussing idolatry at all, but rather the practice of gentiles approaching Hashem using their assigned heavenly sarim as intermediaries. Such a practice would be strictly forbidden for Jews, but apparently Abarbanel feels that for gentiles it is permitted (most meforshim disagree).

Shapiro “cannot square” this with Abarbanel’s strict opinion regarding Christian corporealist belief, but of course there’s no contradiction. Prayer through an intermediary is a way of approaching Hashem, which may or may not be forbidden for gentiles. Hagshama is a denial of Hashem’s true essence. It is certainly forbidden even for gentiles, who are required to accept and believe in Hashem as He is. (As we also see regarding his treatment of Rama M’Pano [fn. 8], Shapiro’s inability or disinterest in actually studying the sources in order to understand them leads him to confuse their ramifications and ascribe internal inconsistencies where none exist.)

The Rashbam, in its most probable reading, simply means to say that Hashem is not “bothered” so to speak when goyim worship avodah zara because He doesn’t really care about them (very universalist). Even in its most stretched reading, he only means like the Abarbanel. He certainly never says that goyim are permitted to worship avodah zara.

Likewise, the Midrash in Shemos Rabbah in context is simply a statement of Hashem’s special love to Klal Yisroel making Him more concerned with their fidelity than He is about the nations.      

The Rama M’Pano never says they won’t be punished, only that the punishment will be of more general nature (see above fn 8).

In all, of the more than ten sources Shapiro brings for even this irrelevant side point, only the version of Tosfos found in the Ein Yackov to Chaggiga 13 actually says what Shapiro wants it to say.

In any event the Gemara clearly maintains that, regardless of if ra’ah v’yatir is literal, gentiles still receive reward for keeping the seven mitzvos, albeit not on the level of metzuvah v’oseh. It is beyond obvious that the seven mitzvos remain the ideal, and that it is they, not some other system, that are the ratzon Hashem even for gentiles. 

[11] Yes, that same Maimonides who paskins that a goy who worships avodah zarah is chayiv misah.

[12] Hil. Melachim 11:4

[13] Shapiro seems to have forgotten that the theory he is defending advocates that all religions contain truth (“Hindu, Sikh,” etc.), and as such none is necessarily better than the other. It is most unfortunate for his purposes that the Rambam’s entire point is that Christianity and Islam are, because of their incorporation of Jewish concepts, preferable to other religions. 

[14] Shapiro himself makes note of this, as we referenced above in footnote 4.

[15] Shapiro eventually seems to notice this but, with a touch of don’t-confuse-me-with-the-facts flippancy, decides that he doesn’t really care. “To be sure, Maimonides sees their truth as provisional, and this is hardly identical with Sacks’ understanding. Yet the passage is still significant in that it recognizes that other religions, even idolatrous ones, can indeed contain truth”. That ‘yet’ is a thing of beauty. The Rambam is talking about something else entirely, something which was never in dispute. Yet Dr. Shapiro wills it to be ‘significant’ toward justifying Sacks’ ideas, so it is so.

[16] More than one editor has pointed out that this is in fact not a very safe guess at all. Everything, no matter how dumb, has people who believe in it. The flat earth society has dozens of members. Oh well.

[17] As it applies to them – the seven mitzvos, etc. One of those mitzvos in Dinim, the responsibility to set up a judicial system and run a well-structured society. Thus even within the framework of the seven mitzvos, gentiles needs “legislation suited to the particular temperaments of each individual nation”. To stretch that past the civil arena, and imagine it to mean even a theological system that differs from the one set out by the one true G-d, is fantasy.

[18] “How can we prove that Moshe Rabbeinu wore a shtreimel?”, goes the old gag. “It’s shteit mefurish: Vayeilech Moshe – and do you really think the heiligeh Moshe Rabbeinu would go walking without his shtreimel??”

[19] Ultimately, the closest he can get to finding ‘traditional support’ is by digging up a gentleman by the name of Netanel al Fayyumi, a twelfth century Yemenite who apparently propagated something similar. There seems to be some unclarity as to what this fellow said and whether it was under duress, but the whole thing is irrelevant before we get to that. Al Fayyumi, a virtually unknown and inconsequential figure, is not a recognized member of mesoras haTorah. If he indeed said and meant what Shapiro thinks he did, then the Gedolim who consider Sacks’ statements untenable would presumably feel the same way about al Fayyumi’s. There is no rule that says if someone lived a long time ago his views automatically constitute ‘traditional support’ of anything.

[20] On the occasion that someone does point out that the source was misquoted or the inference untenable, the open minded acceptance response is popular: “Interesting. I’m going to have to look into that. Thank you for raising the point.” The scholar can then promptly go back to ignoring the objection, while the original thesis continues on its way to academic acceptance.