Spiritual Lessons of a Surveillance World

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Each year, our shul (community synagogue) coordinates a trip to New York to meet diverse religious leaders and laity —to listen, learn, challenge, and grow.

Before each interaction, I ask for permission to record the conversation. Some say absolutely, others are more hesitant, and many say it's okay but only for the group and not for public distribution.

When we sat down at headquarters of the the preeminent Judaic publisher, Artscroll, with my friend, Rabbi Gedaliah Zlotowitz, its president, I asked for permission to record. He not only allowed it, but he also used the question as an opportunity to tell a story he heard from his father and to transmit an important message.

Each summer, the Zlotowitz family would go on a trip with rabbinic royalty, the Feinsteins. One summer, they went to Niagara Falls. As is customary and necessary, on the Maid of the Mist boat tour, the rabbinic dean, Rabbi Dovid ( d. 2020), was wearing a poncho and hood to stay dry. Given his attire, the founder of ArtScroll, Rabbi Meir Zlotowitz, asked the Rosh Yeshiva if it was okay to take a picture together.

The Rosh Yeshiva said it was fine and went on to explain: "I don't do anything in my life that, if someone took a picture, I would be embarrassed. If you wouldn't want a picture taken of it, don't do it." He added, "And I don't say anything that would get me in trouble if it got out. If you wouldn't want it to get out, don't say it."

Long before the advent and ubiquity of technology, our sages cautioned (Pirkei Avos, 3): "Be mindful of three things and you will not come to sin: Know what there is above you —an eye that sees, an ear that hears, and all your deeds are recorded."

For all of history, our ancestors had to imagine what it meant for everything you say and do to be recorded. Our generation needs no imagination. We live in a time in which, whether we give permission or not, we are being recorded. In the aisles of the supermarket, at the airport, everywhere we go — even just stepping outside — cameras are tracking our every move. Our emails, texts, and phone calls are not truly private or confidential. Our online activity and browsing are never fully anonymous or incognito.

If the Rosh Yeshiva's message was true before this reality, it is all the more true now. If you wouldn't want a picture taken of what you are doing, don't do it. If you wouldn't want what you are saying to be made public, don't say it.

Just last week at the US Open in New York, after a five-set thriller, Polish tennis pro Kamil Majchrzak had the best victory of his life. Before leaving the court, he walked toward the stands to interact with fans. Noticing a boy waving, he took off his hat, signed it, and went to give it to him. But before the boy could take it, a man grabbed the hat, stuffed it into his wife's bag, and walked away — leaving the boy heartbroken.

The internet went to work identifying the man as a Polish tycoon and successful CEO, then proceeded to publicly shame him for his deplorable behavior. Despite going viral, rather than apologizing, he doubled down and issued a statement: "Yes, I took it. Yes, I did it quickly. But as I've always said, life is first come, first served… If you were faster, you would have it… I remind you that insulting a public figure is subject to legal liability. All offensive comments, slander, and insinuations will be analyzed for the possibility of taking the matter to court."

In July, at a Coldplay concert, the CEO and Head of HR of a technology company learned the lesson of "an eye sees, an ear hears, and all our actions are recorded" the hard way. Their relationship, caught on camera, went viral and cost them their jobs —and his marriage.

These very public stories, among others, should not only shock or amuse us. The awareness that what we do is seen and recorded — down here and Above — should also sober us.

But, the knowledge that what we do matters doesn't only have to scare us; it can and should also motivate and inspire us.

In 2007, an employee of a New Jersey Dunkin' Donuts named Dustin Hoffmann (not the actor) made news when the store was nearly robbed by a serial thief who jumped on the counter, grabbing cash from the register.

The twenty-something Hoffmann fought back. Grabbing the man's arm with one hand and a large coffee mug with the other, he repeatedly smashed the crook's head with the mug and successfully thwarted the crime.

When later asked about the incident, Hoffmann said that what galvanized him into action was YouTube: "What was going through my mind at that point," he said, "was that the security tape is either going to show me run away and hide in the office, or whack this guy in the head. So I just grabbed the cup and clocked the guy pretty hard!" He then added, "There are only a few videos like that on YouTube now, so mine's going to be the best. That'll teach this guy!"

The Midrash on Ruth teaches: The Torah teaches us Derech Eretz — that when a person does a mitzvah, he should do it with a happy heart. For if Reuven had known that G od would write about him, "And Reuben heard and saved him (Josef) from their hands," he would have brought Josef back to his father on his shoulders. If Aaron had known that G od would write about him, "Behold, he will come out towards you and be happy in his heart," he would have come out with drums and musical instruments to greet Moses. If Boaz had known that G od would write about him, "And he picked for her roasted corn," he would have served her fatted calves.

Rabbi Yaakov Kaminetzky (d. 1986) explains that the Midrash doesn't mean to imply that the prospect of going viral would have changed their behavior. It wasn't ego that was the issue —it was the opposite: their extreme humility.

These great men thought of themselves as small, insignificant personalities on the great world stage. They saw their behaviors as small acts of kindness, no big deal, not worth noticing, and certainly not worthy of recording. They failed to recognize the cosmic impact and lasting influence our small deeds can have, and how they are documented for posterity.

We correctly think of these Days of Awe as days of judgment —a time to recognize that all of the mistakes we have made have been recorded and we are accountable for them.

But it is also a time to remember and focus on the fact that our good decisions, kind deeds, and positive moments matter. We aren't small or insignificant.

An eye sees, an ear hears, and all of our actions are recorded. Don't do anything you wouldn't want recorded. But also know that our best moments and deeds are going viral right now in Heaven.

Keep them coming.

Rabbi Efrem Goldberg is the spiritual leader of the Boca Raton Synagogue.