Man’s central distinction as a medaber—a speaking being—sets him apart from all other creations. His ability to communicate and connect with others is the cornerstone of human existence, without which the world could not endure. We saw this in Dor Haflaga when the Borei confounded their language, rendering them unable to communicate.
Beyond sustaining the world’s existence and function, communication between people also motivates and drives a person to change and improve his actions. Connection often carries criticism or demands that spur a person to transform. To be meurav im habriyos—engaged with others—one must be flexible, refining his ways to align with their surroundings in many diverse areas. Failure to do so brings immediate consequences, personally, socially, and environmentally.
Proper communication rests on the twin pillars of speaking and listening. The speaker seeks to convey specific meaning through his words, while the listener must absorb both the words and the intent behind them. Only then can one truly hear—whether it’s a cry of distress, a critique, a compliment, or something else entirely.
The depth of human connection is forged through dialogue, which sometimes involves friction or disagreement. It is precisely through grappling with differing opinions, seeking common ground, or adapting in response to another’s words, that we develop and grow.
Yet, one of the greatest flaws in modern technological communication is its lack of true engagement. Today’s digital connections don’t demand or challenge us. One can maintain a connection when it suits them or sever it instantly when it doesn’t. Such virtual interactions allow people to surround themselves only with those who mirror their views, cutting off anyone who differs. This is not communication.
At first glance, as bnei Torah, we might think this issue doesn’t affect us deeply. But upon closer examination, we note an additional dimension that impacts us specifically, even more than the broader world, and we must take heed.
Rav Yerucham of Mir famously noted that in chutz la’aretz one could spot a Jew on a train from the fact that he strikes up a conversation with the person beside him. Why? Because a Jew does not live for himself alone but takes an active interest in his fellow’s life. As the Gaon Rav Yitzchak of Volozhin, quoting his father in the introduction to Nefesh HaChaim, states: “שזה כל האדם לא לעצמו נברא, רק להועיל לאחריני ככל אשר ימצא בכוחו לעשות”— “the entirety of man’s purpose in being created is not for himself but to benefit others to the fullest extent of his ability.”
Beyond the basic virtue of proper communication, for a Jew, communication is a tool to benefit others. Thus, the modern erosion of proper communication risks turning us into people who live for ourselves alone, chalilah, rather than to benefit others.
Today, we witness a decline in proper communication between people. For example, when we observe travelers on public transportation, we see each person absorbed in their own world, living only their personal life, and even fearing lest someone approach and disturb their tranquility.
Moreover, our consumption of news reports—morning and evening—undermines our ability to connect. We lack the capacity to listen deeply, to
grasp the story and the people behind the headlines. Whether the news is joyful or, chalilah, the opposite, rachmana litzlan, we are interested only in the news as news, not in the story or the people behind it—such as the bereaved family, the household coping, or the plans that were shelved. Thus, our ability to listen becomes increasingly impaired.
We cannot claim exemption from this critique. This deficiency has infiltrated even our lives as bnei Torah. It is therefore incumbent upon us to pay attention and distinguish between communication that uplifts and benefits and that which only corrupts and harms.