Dear readers,

Some years deliver great reward at little sacrifice. Problems are impersonal, pleasure is constant, and peace is persistent. For me, 2018 not one of those years.

That being said, a musician friend recently emphasized to me “the music between the notes.” The silence that can be just as loud as a guitar’s chord and just as meaningful as a piano’s melody. And I thought about how analogous this is to life. There are special moments between what we believe to be the important ones. A sympathetic hand extended to the shoulder of a distressed stranger. Moments of philanthropy. Acts of altruism. Receiving another’s compassion. These moments aren’t as glamorous as freshly kindled romances, financial advancements, new possessions, etc. But these are the true glories.

And I may have endured many rigors this year, but I enjoyed many of those glories too. And I hope that you can say the same.

Sidney Sheldon said;

“A blank page is God’s way of telling us how hard it is to be God.”

Well, a blank year carries the same responsibility and delivers the same promise. It’s an empty canvas, and you can fill with it what you wish. I only ask that you consider glory and legacy when go about doing so.

Reach for the heavens

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.” Samuel Beckett

This quote has remained with me for years. I was reconsidering it’s implications yesterday in relation to romantic relationships. By describing anything as a failure, Beckett asserts a reality where reward/achievement predicates on a dichotomy. Win, loss. Good, bad. Victory, defeat. These dichotomies have their place (writes the Moralist), but they get applied too frequently (and thus inaccurately) throughout day to day life.

The dichotomy makes sense for learning new skills, conditioning abilities, and attempting new experiences. It’s easily (and accurately) applied to sporting events, but not completely nor as wholly as one would expect. In a boxing contest where an underdog displays unbelievably grit, adaptability, resilience, and strategy but ultimately shies of the win, is he a failure? If this contender secured a future in the sport at a championship level through a 36 minute opportunity before the world, but was bested on points did he truly lose? On paper he did. But he had also won so much; respect, adulation, confidence, and experience. He GAINED things, he LOST nothing. So if failure cannot exist dichotomously for a naturally dichotomous medium, where else does it fail?

I began reconsidering this quote yesterday in relation to the phrase “failed relationships” (romantic endeavors). People generally regard any relationship that sees a break-up or separation as a failed relationship. So if a failed relationship is one that meets its end, antithetically a successful relationship is one that does not end. We can dicotomize/quantify success and failure as being polar opposites because the only time we generally use the phrase of a failed relationship is when it ends. We don’t use the term to address abusive relations, unhappy partners nor mismatched people. This removes a grey area so we can posture the terms as wholly opposing one another.

We need to either deconstruct failure as a binary concept or narrow it entirely to the most basic of goal-based tasks (more narrowed that sporting competitions even) because failure postures all experiences as goal-based excluding any outcome as being positive other than the one we desire. This is a problem because it implies two false sentiments. Firstly, it implies that we know what’s best for us. Our desires are seldom examined, and even when one does examine them its hard to conclude that any one thing would wholly benefit your life. The best career position one is being considered for comes at the cost of added stress, more responsibilities, and more hours at the office. The supermodel-esque girl at the gym eyeing the lonely young adult causes that young adult to believe that consummating a relationship with her would positively benefit his life, unaware of the insecurities she would inspire, her immature tenancies she’ll navigate the relationship with, and her loose values. Similarly, I soldiered through two junior colleges on a warpath to earn admission to UC Berkeley, one of the most prestigious (and most conveniently located) universities in the world. In my pursuit, I disregarded the school’s staunch political stance, arrogant students, protests, riots, and the prevalence of violence and sexual assault. What could have been SO great about the school’s experience that it bestrides political intolerance, egoism, fiery rebellion, assault and rape? What exists within those halls to trump five facets of the experience all conducive to a poor academic experience? I couldn’t tell you, and that community-college student working fastidiously while claiming “It’s Berkeley or nothing” certainly couldn’t answer this question either.

Sociology has a concept called “symbolic interactionism,” which is the view of social behavior that emphasizes linguistic or gestural communication and its subjective understanding, especially the role of language in the formation of the child as a social being. The biggest mistake the social and behavioral sciences make is not applying this concept outside of sociology too. We as people evaluate others based off symbols. “What do you do?” begs an occupation that acts as a symbol correlating to an income, presitigousness, and required education that we relate with it. Asking a person about their occupation gives them symbols to understand them with. Luxury watches and car brands predicates on symbolic interactionism too. A mere symbol can communicate to others their income, and thus societal standing.

The executive who’s promotion continues to teeter on uncertainty desires a symbol (the prestigiousness of a higher position.) The lonely adult eyeing the attractive gym-goer desires a symbol (attractiveness via proxy). I wanted a symbol through admission to UC Berkeley (a symbol of intellect and academic excellence). We as a society interact with SYMBOLS. We do this firstly because we aren’t trained to understand people, things, or places abstractly and even those who find themselves able to do this will also find the task laborious if not insulated by congruent philosophies. Our relationship to symbols becomes most apparent through our desires. These symbols are seldom questioned and again, if we truly explore them we would conclude that we cannot claim any one thing would completely benefit our lives. Thus we do not know what’s best for us. My studies in theology, philosophy, and own religious convictions lead me to belief that we are on this planet to love, learn, and grow. The experiences we need to best do this drastically depart from what we think we need for us. What we actually need interacts with our psyche and our soul. What we desire (largely) satiates our ego.

The second implication of failure is that we need the entire experience of something to benefit from it. This is where we can retire Samuel Beckett’s rendition of failure completely. Maybe the executive who ultimately gets denied the prestigious promotion needed the experience of admitting to himself and the world that he desires this position. He feels he deserves it. But he also admits to those close to him his insecurities about how he will perform with the new skills, qualms over how qualified he actually is, and his anxiety that they will chose someone else. The experience of being a candidate alone requited/caused/catalyzed emotional honesty with himself, his loved ones, and the world around him. Others spent lifetimes unable to achieve this. Maybe THAT was the experience he needed.

I met a model-esque volley-ball player my freshman year of high-school and became infatuated with her immediately. I chased her throughout high-school as I endured the highs and lows of us becoming friends, her getting a boyfriend, me meeting other girls, circumstance forcing the boyfriend and I together for academic purposes, etc. I met excitement, failure, loss, and despair throughout those four years. At the road, we ended up at my house for prom photos and as my date proved to be a bad one, she wanted to step in. In front of all my friends and family, the girl I had desired for years wanted to be my offical date. We had our photos taken together in my backyard by the bay, she befriended my sister, and we spent most of the evening together. That day I actualized a theological virtue that I spent my first 18 years of life living without. Hope. That day, I learned hope. I never got to culminate a relationship with her, and truth be told I wouldn’t have wanted to. The closer we got, the emptier I realized her to be. She’s a sweet girl but deep thinking is not her forte.

I DIDN’T NEED THE ENTIRE EXPERIENCE TO LEARN WHAT I NEEDED TO.

I needed part of the experience. And the person the experience was predicated on was irrelevant. Absolutely no disrespect intended to her, but any pretty face could have substituted the role. The girl didn’t matter. The lesson did. And that lesson instilled a virtue in me that evolved me as a theologian, theist, and human-being. A light switched on that day, and I interact more richly with myself, my world, and God because of it. Where was the failure in that?

Why call anything failure? Why not be grateful that you could do so much? We should realize that the experience predicates on the destination and not the journey, because even with the intellectual investigation of a philosopher or psychologist, we will still never fully understand the motivation for any one desire or goal. Nor can we conclude what’s best for us. But we can solider towards the desires we deem most noble, honest, and meaningful through strategy, patience, and discipline. The journey will investigate man and his limits. The destination will deliver lessons from nature and the divine.

“In the beginning, God created the earth, and he looked upon it in His cosmic loneliness. And God said,

“Let Us make living creatures out of mud, so the mud can see what We have done.”

And God created every living creature that now moveth, and one was man. Mud as man alone could speak. God leaned close to mud as man sat up, looked around, and spoke. Man blinked.

“What is the purpose of all this?” he asked politely.

“Everything must have a purpose?” asked God.

“Certainly,” said man.

“Then I leave it to you to think of one for all this,” said God.

And He went away.”

“The red-headed man with the cement fists smashed you to shit, Junior.”

It was a juvenile message to send him, and a deviation from character, but I took pleasure in Chris Eubank Jr.’s loss after having his blithe arrogance shoved in fan’s faces for years. Last February he mockingly sank to his knees, tensed his shoulders, and scrunched his face like a gargoyle, stalking the aborigine Australian Renold Quinlan around the ring in an ominous precursor to his inevitable victory. The title they were fighting for, the IBO Super-Middleweight Championship, is not recognized as a legitimized title by any official boxing commission. But Quinlan needed it. As a champion, he had mandatory challengers. And with challengers for his belt, Quinlan was never short of opponents and thus fights. With constant opponents comes constant income. Quinlan used this income to fund care for his ailing parents in their impoverished aborigines’ province of Australia. Throughout the fight, Eubank toyed with Quinlan to suggest that the opposition he offered was comical. He toyed with him to suggest— no—- make clear that he would be compromising his career by breaking off a chunk of his legacy to mend it to his own. And he did, except he broke off more than a chunk. A battered Quinlan toiled into irrelevance and thus poverty shortly after the Eubank fight.

Then he fought the prideful legend, Arthur Abraham. Abraham has weathered battles with the best of his division, and at the end of his career wanted to cement his legacy with a win over a rising champion. Eubank found Abraham’s meek wraith just as laughable as Quinlan’s. He brutalized him too, finding time in-between relentless combinations to make faces, posture childish motions, and actually laugh at the German-Armenian legend as to make clear that his best days were behind him.

Aside the antics in these matches (and countless others), Eubank’s misdoings extend beyond the ring. He and his father try to leverage further agency over contests by emphatically voicing that “Junior’s opponents need to be protected,” urging early-stoppages from the referee (to save lives). This is a tasteless reference to his fight with Nick Blackwell, whom Eubank beat into a coma years backs (and who remains there). And outside of his boxing career, grainy videos can be found of an adolescent Eubank beating men in parking garages from a decade ago.

Chris Eubank Jr. is not a good man.

So when he had dispatched of his first two opponents in the Super-Middleweight Super-Six Tournament for the Mohammad Ali trophy, fans were conflicted. This conflict stems from negotiating his distasteful character with the truth that he thrashes his opponents from pillar to post until knockout, stoppage, or a unanimous decision-victory. People were forced to face the reality that he was the most probable victor, but sought comfort that his opponent in the semi-finals was George Groves.

Groves weathered two wars with legendary Carl Froch, beating him on many dimensions before they ever fought. The ambitious youth permeated the veteran’s psyche by predicting pieces of the match with absolute confidence. He would solve Rubik’s cubes as a nervy Froch would ramble nonsense during the press-conference, communicating his superior intellect. He would explain how Froch would be defeated, emphasizing how it would catalyze his own career’s rise and Froch’s demise. He compromised Froch mentally, shrinking the larger, more experienced man so the opponent he would face against would not be the truest and most formidable version. And it largely worked. Groves manifested his predictions verbatim.

“The match will start off as a battle of jabs and I will win.” Groves did.

“I am going to give him a taste of my straight-right, just a taste, early in the first round so he respects my power.” He did that too.

He also predicted “I will finish Groves with my left-hook” and he knocked him down with it twice.

Groves fell victim to a criminally premature stoppage loss, but displayed a body of work so impressive, and withstood punishment so unbearable, that his future in the sport was assured to be bright. He endured career highs and lows, battering Froch in a rematch until Froch (shockingly) knocked him out cold, facing a grueling Badou Jack on Mayweather’s undercard where he fought a sound fight, but shied of doing enough to cinch the win. But on a career high, last May on Kell Brook’s undercard he fought a technical match to win the WBA Super-Middleweight Championship. He has navigated his career, the good and bad, courtesy of an incredible boxing intellect, a powerful jab, and two concrete fists. He fights strategically, patiently waiting for his opponent to allow him the freedom to manifest his game-plan. And win-lose-or-draw, he always does. His few losses were not courtesy of a more-skilled opponent, but by deviating from his discipline.

Groves skills are not only reliable, but antithetical to Eubank Jr’s form of uncalculated flurries, ambitious power-shots, and lack of any real strategy. So as many fans sought comfort in the pedigree of Groves, other boxers voiced that if he even deviates from strategy slightly, he’s done. And to heighten odds, despite the wide body of boxers, promoters, and judges who voiced Groves as a favorite, bookies had it heavily tipped to Eubank. Eubank had been ascending for years while Grove’s career was far from linear. The Eubanks’ and their team convinced the world THIS was the height of Junior’s ascension. Their indoctrination techniques seemed to plague masses, as even Groves offered a Freudian slip in a interview where he accidentally billed Eubank the winner. Doubt was nursed as a budding seed in the mind of Groves supporters, warding anyone from confidently asserting Groves as the winner. But when it seemed this doubt plagued Groves too, the world was afraid he was entering a dangerous match compromised to the same vain and degree that Froch was against him.

“Ginger is getting slumped”, some fan wrote in an ominous forum post.

Ginger didn’t get slumped. Not in the slightest. The red-headed man with the concrete fists smashed Junior to shit. Groves fought a match so strategically sound that it paralleled the ingenious of history’s most adulated military commanders. The naturally larger, stronger Groves, maintained distance from Eubank whose style is to rush into his opponents guard and bombard with attack. Each time Eubank attempted this, Groves met him with a sharp, punishing left jab.

Groves nullified each attempt at a combination by killing the momentum immediately, courtesy of either evasion or attack. As Groves began to pick up steam he would meet Eubank with a strong jab, then a straight-right. Eubank would shudder in pain. We shuddered in perverse joy. In the early rounds, Eubank tried to permeate his guard and received a shot that tore his left eye-lid in two. Blood seeped over each of their bodies in clinches, Groves shoving him out of intimate contact and continuing a barrage of attack. This affair increased in violence as the cut grew, because as the cut grew Eubank became more desperate and even less calculated. Instead of coming forward and addressing Jr. as the assailant, thus playing into Eubank’s hand, Groves always allowed Eubank to make the first move. Eubank continued to make the wrong move. And in this gory chess-match, with each wrong move he further felt the brunt of his downfall. A campaign of fear and bullying, a house built on a foundation of arrogance, collapsed on Eubank before the world.

I have been offering assistance to a close friend who recently fulfilled his military contract and has begun a city-college with the intention of transferring to a university. Immediately upon hearing about his plans, I urged him to set his sights as high as possible, UC Berkeley. I couldn’t help myself. My journey to obtain admission to their university was less than idea, frankly because I failed to. But the journey itself was shrouded in strategic consideration; understanding which classes I need to take, what grade I need to obtain in each course to maintain the GPA necessary, and what guidance counselors and advisers I should most trust to help facilitate such plans. I deviated from strategy upon the final steps of applying, impulsively changing majors to something I felt would statistically increase chances of acceptance. This costed me direly, and while some may argue this postures me to be the WORST adviser to my friend, I believe it deems me as the most fitting. By inheriting my strategy and critiquing it, obeying by a discipline I ultimately betrayed, he could achieve something I was unable to. And I write this with the utmost sincerity, I have never wanted somebody to achieve something so badly that I was unable to.

I have recently hear him voice deeply concerning things.

“I don’t think i’m STUPID smart, but I am smart.”

“I mean, I will try. I won’t get my hopes up and i’m definitely going to have a back up plan, but I will try.”

These statements do not concern me because they note uncertainty in character (although that does bother me too), but because he attributes success to inherent ability. Upon my revisions of strategy, my life and other, I have deemed three qualities necessary to achieve anything in this world. Strategy, discipline, and patience. Obtainment of these three abilities, working harmoniously together, can deliver man anything he wants.

I wrote this to the same friend after I formed this theor—- realized these truths about life.

“I was going to type this in a letter to you but I couldn’t find the words or time. But I think this is very important.

I think that man does himself a terrible disservice by believing that he is so much less powerful than he is. People fail themselves. We think we are so limited in what we can manifest in our own personal lives and this world. We’re not. You and I could be professional fighters in a year’s time. We could be studying to be astronauts. We can literally leave this planet. We could be humanitarians traveling the world or we could open a brothel in Brazil and have an endless supply of women or race sports cars around Miami or become professional chefs. Or you could become an astronaut and me a humanitarian or vice versa.

People, not some people, almost ALL people approach their lives as if they’re helpless and at the mercy of life and circumstances. “I’ll go where the waves take me.” Well you, I, Felipe, Andrew, we can control the waves.

There is a finite amount of criteria to get into UC Berkeley. It isn’t some aimless pursuit where one is just throwing meat at a wall hoping it sticks. There is objective criteria that would deliver you into one of the most prestigious universities on the planet, thus changing your life forever and you are capable of achieving that. Patience, discipline, and strategy will deliver you whatever you want.

DO you remember Fedrich? Fredrich is overweight and grimy because he chooses to be. Every day he chooses behavior that supports that lifestyle. Tomorrow he could choose behavior that supports hygiene and health, but he won’t because he doesn’t think he can. Felipe was fat because he supported bad dietary habits until one day he didn’t. He decided not to eat junk (strategy), didn’t eat junk (discipline), and exercised patience because he wasn’t going to be gifted an improved body overnight.”

The failure to achieve anything comes at the cost of two things; compromise and doubt. Both Groves and I were both burdened with countless places to falter. Groves could have retreated into pity upon hearing half of the United Kingdom predicting the bloody conclusion to his career (doubt). He could have abandoned strategy mid-fight to pursue a knockout or stoppage of Eubank and thus devolve the bout from a chess-match to a fight, Eubank’s domain of expertise (compromise). But Groves did not falter with compromise, and I did. And the results speak to the potency of those two beguilements.

We saw with George Groves what we will see with my friend. Groves operated outside of the pageantry of the event, by disregarding what it means and instead focusing on what he needed to do (strategy), waiting until circumstance afforded him the opportunity necessary (patience), and ultimately executed just as he needed to (discipline). And as he was announced as the victor and launched in the air, he rested not on the shoulders of his trainers but the body of incredible work.

We create our own realities and you have just as much power to create yours too.

(The quip about a brothel was purely for levity, fyi)

Amir Khan’s arms flailed lifelessly as he collided into the canvas. The eyes of my friends darted to me, expecting another dramatized reaction that I was known for long ago. It was fitting that a response as animated as throwing a plate (my signature reaction) belonged to a spectacle as cartoonish as professional wrestling. But those days are retired far into my childhood, and a shallow sense of anger for my desired outcome not having been met was not what I experienced. My angst was real.

The idea of Khan’s defeat coming to him in such a graphic fashion was a fear that haunted me throughout the day. It intensified throughout the preliminary rounds of the match as I voiced my premonitions to the people surrounding me. “Danny, Khan is scoring more points.” “Canelo looks shaken.” “Khan’s speed is unmatched.” These were all phrases directed at me to ease some of the burdening anxiety that rested within. Such phrases felt like hollow attempts at trying to divert me from the hopeless situation that was going to follow. This offers insight as to why I was sent in a paroxysm of despair, grief, and fear at the sight of Khan’s demise. As his swollen eyes fixed directly above him while his trainers, promotors, and medical assistance crowded around, my eyes were also stared in a dazed state at something beyond me; the cruel nature of reality.

Saul “Canelo” Alvarez’s chiseled body dwarfed the UK native’s physique of lean muscle. He resides two weight classes above the much smaller challenger, as the welterweight divisions limits had to be augmented for Khan to even be sanctioned to fight. Canelo’s technique is virtually flawless and his 46 win record holds only one blemish (and to the best boxer in the sport). Meanwhile Amir Khan has been clobbered into oblivion countless times, and by fighters a lot less gifted than his most recent opponent. The fighter infamous for his reckless style and venerability to knock-outs faced the fighter who best capitalizes of recklessness and is notorious for knocking opponents out. This was far from a mere bout of pugilism, but rather a meditation on life. Amir Khan symbolized a contention of circumstance and an appeal to fate.

I opened up a blank word document on a drizzly November night and began to pen my personal essay to one of the most prestigious of academic institutions in the world; the University of California, Berkeley. Throughout two years prior, friends and family would offer a slight cringe when I explained my plans of obtaining my undergraduate degree through them. “I mean, you’re a really good student, Daniel. But Berkeley? Are you sure? Do you have a backup plan?” “I mean, you’re my son. You’re incredibly intelligent. But they are really hard to get into. Really hard.” These responses were indicative of my chances of acceptance, however pessimism was never my strong suit. If anything, the mere discussion of my acceptance to Berkeley breathed hope into my mind and heart.

At an early juncture of my high-school career, I held a weighted GPA of 1.5. Although I was able to perform decently moving forward, my introduction into college was rough to say the least. I continued a streak of failing grades throughout my first Psychology class before the professor seated me in her office and explained to me just how one is supposed to study. The idea that test-taking was a product of understanding material and not measuring answers, negotiating truths, and comparing options was foreign to me. I was able to salvage not just the semester, but also my college career, by taking her teachings to heart moving forward. I performed incredibly throughout the next few years, obtaining perfect and near-perfect grades throughout each semester that followed.

In a 2012 match, Amir Khan faced Danny Garcia for the championship of the 147lb division. They began the opening round exchanging a flurry of punches before Khan was stunned by an uppercut; his lanky arms flailing around as he crumbled to the mat. The audience watched on in slack-jawed disbelief as he answered the referee’s ten count, only to begin the second round on wobbly legs. He stumbled away from his opponent, gaining all the awareness he could before squaring up once again. Khan stood there protecting himself from the onslaught of close-quarters exchanges until he was well enough to offer reciprocity. He was knocked out once again. Inexplicably, Khan made it to his knees before the ten count. He continued toward Garcia, clearly disoriented. He utilized the speed that he was known for as he rejecting the notion of an inevitable defeat. “THIS FIGHT IS OVER, KHAN DOESN’T SEEM TO HAVE THE LEGS!” An announcer screams. “But he’s got the heart. He’s got the heart,” another announcer quietly chimed in. Khan offered all that he physically could before he was slayed.

Both Amir Khan and I fall victim to the same tragic downfall. Our ability to achieve the excellence we strive to is a product of our relentless determination, however our actual achievability is hobbled by the shortcomings of our characters. As good of a student as I have become, I still do not operate on the level necessary for UC Berkeley. As motivated as Khan may be, his susceptibility to knock-outs is very much real. Year by year it proves to be central to his identity as a boxer and it is starting to seem as if it is a flaw of his inherent physiology as opposed to skill. It is the sole flaw that continues to compromise his career and threaten his legacy. As transformative as the previous years have been for the two of us, we did not grow enough in the time available to triumph over adversity and achieve our goals.

I sat in silence as I read the rejection letter. I was met with a slight sense of disappointment. The only reason this defeat was not half as crushing as I originally anticipated it would be was because life slowly eased me into the cruel nature of the situation. Month by month following the submission of my application, my hope waned in face of reality. The reality of acceptance statistics, transgressions in my transcripts, and the contrast in personality between current Berkeley students and myself. The most painful aspect of the situation occurred an hour after I read the letter. While at a family dinner for my sister’s birthday, my cousin turned to me in front of 12 other people, and muttered those six awful words, “Hey did you get into Berkeley?” I betrayed my virtue of honesty as I explained to him that I had yet to hear back. My girlfriend was one of the two people who knew the truth. Seated next to me, her hand slowly descended to my back for comfort as she offered a smile of sympathy. The very smile caused me more pain than the rejection letter itself. She was one of the many people who believed in me whom I had let down. I imagine this is how Khan felt as his trainer held him in his arms after Khan’s loss.

During those six months at which he started training and I awaited the acceptance decision, Khan offered me hope. And after I had lost my battle, I clung on to the hope that he would win his. I wanted him to win because it would have conveyed the idea that one can transcend circumstance and that reality is a mere illusion (and often times an uncompromising one). The implication of his defeat represented more than just another match in the loss column. It implies the notion that in some situations defeat is imminent. It implies that passion does not necessitate talent and desire does not necessitate obtainment. Among all else, it encourages my haunting fear that the girl my heart has swollen passionately for will most likely not be mine forever, and forces me to face the stark possibility that one day her embrace will belong to another man.

We are two dreamers; fantasists of out crafts. Our childhood whimsy afforded us the naïve hope that our passion was enough to manifest our ambitions into reality. But as Khan has his jaw realigned and I complete my transfer forms to UC Davis, we realize we were very, very wrong.

Written May 9th, 2016.

Unarguably the most controversial teaching of Judaism follows on page 73 of the Babylonian Talmud: “And these are the ones whom one must save even with their lives [i.e., killing the wrongdoer]: one who pursues his fellow to kill him [rodef achar chavero le-horgo], and after a male or a bethrothed maiden [to rape them]; but one who pursues an animal, or desecrates the Sabbath, or commits idolatry are not saved with their lives.” Originating from a text composed somewhere between the 3rd and 5th century, today the concept of the Rodef more simply explains that if a person is to pursue another with the intent of killing them, they are billed a Rodef. When one is aware of a Rodef, one bears the responsibility of killing this person if all other means of suppressing them prove ineffective. Because this concept is so abstract and deviates so greatly from the largely passive Jewish nature, many make the mistake of dismissing it as an idea that has no real world bearing. This is a terrible mistake since over the past two decades alone, the concept of the Rodef has resulted in various political and religious figures around the world being accused of blasphemous, treacherous, and homicidal behavior earning them this label. In a few publicized cases, contracted killings have taken place in order to exterminate the Rodef. In order to test the virtuousness of this concept, we must first examine the argument in logical form. First let us assume you recognize a Rodef. You decide to murder them (P). If you murder the Rodef, then you violate Utilitarian ethics (Q). You murdered the Rodef (P) therefore you violated Utilitarian ethics (Q).

In order to continue evaluating this concept to identify its ethical validity, it is imperative that we explain the terms germane to our argument. A conditional argument in Philosophy takes the form of an “if… then” statement. It is composed of two pieces, an antecedent and a consequent. The antecedent is generally followed by the “if” whereas the consequent is followed by the “then.” For example, “IF you murder the Rodef, THEN you violate Utilitarian ethics.” I must also explain the concept of the “negation.” Essentially, a negation falsifies a given proposal (which is symbolized using: ~). It is also of great value to the paper to understand what a disjunction is. A disjunction is determined by an “or” (‘V’ in logic). It is highly important to understand that a disjunction can solely be accepted as truthful only if one of the other parts of the disjunction is true as well. Lastly, the Principle of Sufficient Reason states that “In seeking to understand a point of view whereby we seek to understand the view in its strongest, most persuasive form before subjecting the view to evaluation.”

In order to maintain my integrity as a philosopher, I must effectively apply The Principle of Sufficient Reason to all aspects of the argument. In order to do that, I shall start by examining the negation of the consequent. If you murder the Rodef (P), then you do not violate Utilitarian ethics (~Q). And to further weigh out the ethical considerations of this concept, we must begin by understanding the ethical model that is being applied. Utilitarian ethics are largely regarded as a very stable and sufficient means of identifying the ethical considerations of any one act or multiple actions based off how much happiness or unhappiness it achieves. This is because Utilitarianism does not aim to dictate behavior through established dogmas or principles that are left unexplained or unjustified, but rather focuses on making ethical judgements based on the net result of any occurrence. When carefully examining the original text, one can come to the realization that the intended purpose of the passage was to prevent rape, murder, the slaughtering of animals and to maintain respect for both God and the Jewish tradition. Saving both innocent by-standards from murder and their families and friends from the agony and despair of losing a loved one would qualify as altruistic behavior, as well as attempting to prevent the murder of animals and the raping of women and children. And the aspect of the text that pertains to the Rodef applying to those who desecrate the Sabbath and commits idolatry could very well be in order to keep one skeptic from causing other believers a separation from God and the Jewish faith. In this instance, the concept of the Rodef would be justified under the Utilitarian ethical model.

Because Utilitarianism judges the ethics of an action based off the overall outcome, it makes it challenging to factor in the means of which the outcome was achieved. But one must also factor in the consequences of the means in spite of the overall outcome. If the original text was purposed at preventing murder (amongst other atrocities) and the modern interpretation largely focuses on a Rodef being someone who pursues another with the intent of murder (disregarding animal killing, rape, idolatry and disrespect of the Sabbath), then is it not hypocritical, contradictory, and counter-productive to prevent murder with murder? Somebody pursuing another with the intent of killing them would be a Rodef. But by definition, the person who pursues this person is too a Rodef. And so is the person who pursues him. A doctrine originally brought into creation to prevent killing is going to result in a much larger number of deaths solely because the concept self-perpetuates. In theory, this could take generally peaceful societies and devolve them into lands of savagery, barbarianism and violence. And if the net result is a largely maximized number of causalities and an endless cycle of murder, death, and lawlessness then the concept of the Rodef would fail to be supported by Utilitarian ethics.

Although the Rodef may have been an idea that was composed to prevent daily monstrosities, the true ethical judgement lies in whether or not the concept serves as something that prevents murders versus an idea that perpetuates them. If a society were to live under this concept, then the idea behind the Rodef could possibly be effective at preventing murders, but once one murder is committed then a cycle of murder is begun that very well could wipe out the population of that society. The resulting outcome is not one that maximizes happiness or well-being, but would rather be that of mass-murder. Therefore, the Rodef is unethical under Utilitarian ethics. In the words of Leon Trotsky, “The end may justify the means as long as there is something that justifies the end.”