How the Jewish virtue of respecting elders can become a vice - opinion

Age may indeed bring wisdom, but it does not guarantee it. When tradition is used to prevent education, economic participation, and basic civic equality, it becomes not a virtue but a vice.

 GRAND RABBI Yaakov Aryeh Alter of Gur, Sephardi Chief Rabbi Yitzhak Yosef and others celebrate at a wedding in 2023. When it comes to honoring elders, the Orthodox world gets it right, the writer says, but it must not become a tool for political exploitation and social stagnation. (photo credit: David Cohen/Flash90)
GRAND RABBI Yaakov Aryeh Alter of Gur, Sephardi Chief Rabbi Yitzhak Yosef and others celebrate at a wedding in 2023. When it comes to honoring elders, the Orthodox world gets it right, the writer says, but it must not become a tool for political exploitation and social stagnation.
(photo credit: David Cohen/Flash90)

Ageism is one of the last socially acceptable prejudices in the modern world. We rightly reject racism, sexism, and other forms of discrimination, but marginalizing the elderly remains commonplace, even strangely celebrated in some quarters under the guise of “change,” a modern religion. 

In that respect, the haredi (ultra-Orthodox) community, with whom I frequently disagree, offers an admirable counterexample. 

“You shall rise before the aged,” the Torah commands explicitly. This is not just a guideline for polite behavior, it’s a fundamental value embedded in Jewish tradition. The elderly are not to be ignored, sidelined, or dismissed. They are to be honored, their wisdom cherished, and their presence revered. 

In a world obsessed with youth, this principle stands as a counterweight, a reminder that age is not a decline but an ascent. Unless dementia sadly strikes, the elders simply know more and they have experienced more. Beyond the value of their wisdom, there is pragmatic self-interest, too: Every one of us who does not die prematurely has a stake in this idea.

Elderly hand (illustrative) (credit: PIXABAY)
Elderly hand (illustrative) (credit: PIXABAY)

Rabbi Heshy Grossman, a Jerusalem scholar, captures this ethos well. “In secular society, we are witness to the unfortunate situation where older people are at best tolerated and more often considered to be a burden and drain,” he notes.

“In a society that prioritizes physical prowess and appearance and glorifies the pursuit of material pleasures, older people whose physical abilities are diminished have nothing to offer. But traditional Jewish society admires most wisdom, so it is natural that our elders will be our heroes.”

Heshy and I often disagree, but this is powerful. 

What is the approach of Jewish thought? 

While secular culture sees history as something to overcome, traditional Jewish thought sees something to absorb: Do not escape the past, but learn from it. The reverence for age reflects a belief that earlier generations, shaped by hardship and steeped in learning, have insights we all need.

It is true, of course, that in some ways, today’s world is far better than what came before: more egalitarian, more accepting of the differences between us, and ever more informed about the realities of the universe as scientific inquiry advances.

But on the other hand, as the Book of Ecclesiastes notes, “There is nothing new under the sun.” On the fundamentals of life, youth of every generation relearn everything from scratch. They might quickly acquire knowledge, but it will take decades to accumulate wisdom.


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AND YET, the modern labor market routinely ghosts applicants over 50 (unless, of course, they’re running for US president), and in Silicon Valley, over-40s are a relic. 

This age bias may have made some sense in the past when employment resembled a long-term marriage with mutual investment and eventual pensions. But today, with the average job tenure sitting around four years, that logic no longer holds. With everyone leaving soon anyway, what’s the point?

Yes, younger generations can drive progress. They bring fresh ideas, adapt quickly to technology, cost less, and enjoy clear advantages in physically demanding jobs. 

But youth also comes with entitlement, impatience, recklessness, and a historical tendency toward poor judgment. Experience is a secret sauce.

Sometimes, yes, it’s just accumulated failure, but why do we cast aside even the successful among the experienced? And the picture is worse still in society and the culture. 

Even in East Asian countries that once revered elders, modernity has torn apart multi-generational homes and left many to die alone; the Japanese kodokushi (lonely death) is both chilling and tragically common.

When it comes to honoring elders, the Orthodox world gets it right. It is a rare and valuable resistance to the cult of youth that dominates modern life. 

One reflection of this is the fact that in Orthodox society, the greatest rabbis, often well into their 80s and 90s, remain the undisputed leaders of their world. Their wisdom is not perceived to have been made redundant or eroded by time but rather burnished by it.

THEREFORE, IT’S so sad to see that this admirable reverence for the elderly has, in practice, become, in the haredi community, a tool for political exploitation and social stagnation. 

Aged rabbinic authorities – many of whom are absurdly isolated from modern life – stand in the way of meaningful integration of their community into Israeli society.

It is true that many haredi youth are inspired by their yeshiva studies and choose on their own to maintain them. 

But huge numbers also want integration with society and a chance at economic independence and life as productive citizens in wider society, but they fear castigation, if not excommunication.

Rather than shepherding a desperately needed transition with wisdom, many of the elders are wielding their authority to perpetuate a deeply immoral system. They have scuttled educational reforms, blocking haredi boys from learning math, English, and science.

A promising 2022 deal negotiated with then-prime minister Yair Lapid, which would have set the community on a gradual but meaningful path toward a core curriculum, was abandoned at the last moment by pressure from rabbinic leadership. 

These days, this same leadership is feverishly torpedoing efforts to fairly share the national burden of military service.

Instead of guiding their flock toward responsible citizenship, they are encouraging even those unfit for rabbinical study to enroll in yeshivas for long years simply to maintain exemptions and continue siphoning government subsidies (the current legal framework exempts yeshiva and seminary students from IDF service, creating a powerful financial incentive to avoid both the military and the workforce). This is immorality masquerading as piety, and it is unsustainable.

With great power comes great responsibility 

I REALIZE that the rabbinical sages are not looking for advice from a secular apikoros (“heretic”), but I shall offer it to them anyway: You are abusing the great power that comes from such responsibility and risk undermining the very principle that has elevated you – the notion that the elderly are wise.

Age may indeed bring wisdom, but it does not guarantee it. When tradition is used to prevent education, economic participation, and basic civic equality, it becomes not a virtue but a vice.

As for the youthful haredim, they should understand that respecting one’s elders does not mean abdicating autonomous moral and civic responsibility.

Honor the past, by all means, but do not let it steal the future.

The writer is the former chief editor of the Associated Press in Europe, Africa, and the Middle East, the former chairman of the Foreign Press Association in Jerusalem, and the author of two books about Israel. Follow his newsletter “Ask Questions Later” at danperry.substack.com.