Our Sages teach that when kilkul—corruption—spreads within the tzibbur and festers, the path of avodah does not lie in directly changing the kilkul itself, for it will persist and prevail. Instead, we must create a world of tikkun to counter it, as Rav Yisrael Salanter, zt”l, writes in Ohr Yisrael (Letter 10): לעומתם ברוך יאמר לקרב נפשות ליראת ה’ — “In opposition to those [who mock yiras Shamayim], a blessing is pronounced upon one who draws souls closer to yiras Shamayim.”
The way to combat a wave of kilkul is to forge a counter-movement, a spiritual impression in the opposite direction. The Alter of Slobodka, zt”l, exemplified this when faced with efforts to establish a yeshivah in Lithuania incorporating secular studies. He declared that he would not engage in disputes with those proponents. Rather, he would teach in his yeshivah about Adam HaRishon before the cheit, fostering a movement of kedushah to stand against the secular tide.
From this, we learn that addressing such challenges requires more than simple safeguards and boundaries. While these are vital, they merely remove stumbling blocks in a technical sense, without building a spiritual tikkun to oppose the kilkul. Should an opportunity arise, chalilah, we could easily stumble again. Therefore, alongside these protections, we must cultivate a profound spiritual counter-movement to stand firm against the growing tide of kilkul.
To create this tikkun, we must first understand the nature of the kilkul. By analyzing it deeply, we can craft a response that counters it directly. When we consider the educational challenges posed by technology, we can easily identify the many traits and desires it amplifies. By discerning their roots, we can establish a movement of tikkun to oppose them.
Today, we often measure actions by the yardstick of mutar or assur, assuming that if something is not explicitly forbidden, we see no problem with it. Yet, the Rambam, in his commentary on the Mishnah (Perek 6), in explaining the essence of the distinction between chukim and mishpatim, says that chukim are observed solely because Hashem commands them, and not because our souls find the matter repugnant. Mishpatim, however, require us to connect with and understand the roots of the middos contained therein, such as mitzvos bein adam l’chaveiro.
Tragically, in our generation, we have lost this vital connection. We seek external rulings on whether something is mutar or assur. We measure every question as to whether there is an explicit source that the matter is assur, rather than personal reflection on its propriety.
For instance, while there may be no explicit issur against watching the murder of a non-Jew, can we claim it is proper? Does such exposure not bring kilkul to the soul? Similarly, while there may be no prohibition against viewing someone being bound and shackled, ba’alei nefesh cannot observe such a loss of freedom with indifference. Countless examples abound, underscoring our obligation to build a tikkun to counter this kilkul.
Delving deeper, we see that one root of this issue is the abundance of possibilities. As our focus shifts to what is possible rather than what is proper, technological advancements continually present us with new, enabling tools.
Yet, man’s task is to know his place—not mere self-awareness, but a true understanding of his needs, distinguishing what he requires from what he does not. The challenge is to recognize what is needed, not what is possible.
Against the yardstick of endless possibilities, which erodes all personal reflection on right and wrong, we must foster a movement of “need” — evaluating whether something is necessary, regardless of whether it is mutar or assur. By training ourselves to focus on what we need rather than what we can do, we will gradually restore our personal connection and ability to discern what is correct and proper and what is not. This is the movement of tikkun that counters the movement of kilkul.