“Do not conduct yourself in the manner of lawyers” (Pirkay Avos 1:8). There are many “lawyer jokes” out there, but this teaching of [Rabbi] Yehuda ben Tabai was not intended as one. What did he find offensive about lawyers that he warned his students not to act like them? Is there a problem with being a lawyer? Don’t those either summoned to court or who have to bring someone else to court in order to recover what (they think) is rightfully theirs need (and deserve) someone who “knows the system” to help them? If he found lawyers offensive, why wasn’t his advice (or directive) simply to not become lawyers? What does it mean to “act like a lawyer” that we should not do the same?

Pirkay Avos is accurately described as “Ethics of our Fathers,” as it relates ethical teachings that our sages taught. More specifically, though, it is a record of the ethical teachings that each of these sages taught to his students. Because it consists of ethical teachings, the commentators don’t necessarily try to accurately relate what the intent of the original teaching was; the ethical lesson they bring out is also valid, and adds much to our tradition. Nevertheless, my intent here is to try to understand what Rabbi Yehuda ben Tabai meant when he taught this to his students; the fact that there are various other ways this teaching can be explained does not detract from an attempt to understand what was originally intended, nor does such an attempt detract from the valuable other lessons learned from and/or taught through his words.

The Mesechta (Tractate) starts with a record of how the Torah was transmitted through the earlier generations, and continues with some of the specific ethical teachings subsequent leaders of their generation taught to their students. Rabbi Yehuda ben Tabai himself, in his very next “teaching” (which is a continuation of this one) tells his students what perspective to have when litigants are before them, obviously referring to a situation where his students are the judges of a court case (see also 1:9, which is addressed specifically to judges, and 1:11, which is directed at leaders). Since he is teaching his students how to act when they are judges, some (e.g. Rabbeinu Bachye) explain “not acting like a lawyer” to also be referring to when they are the judge of a case; if you are the judge, you can not act like a lawyer, helping one of the litigants argue his case, even if you are convinced that he is right. From this perspective, there is nothing wrong with being a lawyer; it is only the judge who cannot conduct himself the way a lawyer would.

Although conceptually this is true (see Rambam’s Hilchos Sanhedrin 21:11 and Choshen Mishpat 17:8, where this is codified as law), it is difficult to say that this is what Rabbi Yehuda ben Tabai was trying to teach his students. For one thing, as Beis Avos (written by the Vilna Ga’on’s son, R’ Sh’lomo Zalman) points out, this teaching continues by saying “and when the litigants are before you,” which strongly implies that the previous part was not limited to “when the litigants are before you,” and therefore applies even in situations when not a judge. Additionally, the Talmud (K’subos 52b and 85b-86a) tells us of cases where Rabbi Yochanan and Rav Nachman advised their relatives how to attain a more favorable judgment in their upcoming court cases, after which they regretted having done so because they had “acted the way lawyers do.” Since in both of those cases the person giving the advice was not directly involved in the case, and was certainly not one of the judges, the issue of “acting like a lawyer” cannot apply only to judges.

Those situations raise other issues, issues that can help us focus on what the problem with “acting like a lawyer” might be. In both cases, the Talmud asks what the person who advised his relative was thinking when he first gave the advice (since “acting like a lawyer” is problematic) and what he was thinking when he regretted doing so (what changed his mind). The Talmud explains that originally they thought that advising a relative was appropriate, since we are told not to “close our eyes” to a relative in need (Yeshayahu 58:7), but then realized that since they are people of stature, it was inappropriate for them to have done so. If “acting like a lawyer” is problematic, why would be okay to do so for a relative? Can we violate other things to help out family members? (Obviously not.) If the reason they regretted doing so was based on their stature, the implication is that for those of lesser stature it would be okay to “act like a lawyer.” How does their stature affect their ability to do something that is allowed, and is perhaps even recommended, for others?

Rashi (86a) says that being men of stature makes a difference because others who see them advise a litigant might think it’s okay to do so even for non-relatives. [Interestingly, Rashi only tells us this on 86a; he doesn’t explain why someone of stature is different on 52b.] It is clear from Rashi (and the Talmud’s implication that the reason these “men of stature” advised their relatives was precisely because they were relatives) that it was only appropriate because they were relatives. However, if even a layperson is supposed to “act like a lawyer” for relatives, why is it problematic for someone of stature to do so? The example he is setting is perfect — helping a relative! Rabbeinu Yehonasan from Lunil (on 52b) says that the reason someone of stature shouldn’t advise his relatives is because people will say he did something inappropriate. But if helping a relative by advising them for their court case is appropriate, why would people think it was inappropriate?

Avos d’Rav Nasan (10:2), after quoting our Mishna, explains how this is to be fulfilled: “If you come to the study hall and you hear a court decision or a law that was decided, do not let your spirit let you rush to respond. Rather, be seated and ask how such a conclusion was reached.” As Rav Yaakov Kamenestsky (in his commentary on Avos) explains (although he applies it differently), the point is to not reach a conclusion too hastily, but instead to take the time (and have the patience) to think the matter through, and get a thorough background on all the pertinent issues before coming to any conclusions. If, after that, there is still a difference of opinion, it should certainly be discussed, but until then, it would be inappropriate to express an opinion on the matter.

The obvious difference between stating an opinion before thinking it through and waiting until a more appropriate conclusion is reached is the likelihood of being correct. What is not necessarily so obvious is why an opinion stated prematurely is more likely to be incorrect, as well as why an opinion would even be offered before the issue is thoroughly researched and investigated. (I know this is done often, as evidenced by the writing of so many bloggers and columnists, but the question is why they would expose themselves as being shallow rather than holding off until they can develop a more informed and mature opinion.)

The wording of Avos d’Rav Nasan, “do not let your spirit let you rush to respond,” pinpoints the issue as being “your spirit,” i.e. your biases. Because of our predispositions, our initial reaction is to discredit anything that runs counter to them. We are therefore advised not to offer any initial reaction, but to find out what the decision is really based on. Since refraining from reacting based on our biases is described as fulfilling the dictum of not “acting like a lawyer,“ it would seem that “acting like a lawyer” refers to advocating for a position we are biased towards even before we have thought the issue through. More precisely (since ideally any “predispositions” we have are based on a carefully researched and thought out opinion), it is the initial reaction to a specific decision that must be guarded against, as even if our “predisposition” is valid, our initial rejection of something we think runs counter to it may not be.

It can therefore be suggested that Rabbi Yehuda ben Tabai was trying to teach his students to carefully consider everything on its own merits, rather than being an advocate. For anything. Or anyone. Every situation that arises must be carefully examined, without making a determination or taking sides before all the facts are in. The job of a lawyer, on the other hand, is to advocate for his or her client, whether or not they are right. The admonition not to “act like a lawyer” certainly applies when judging a case, as a judge is not allowed to help one side by suggesting an argument to make — even if convinced that side is right — because which side is really right has not yet been determined. And it applies in the study hall, as a student should not argue against a decision or law before understanding its full context just because he thinks it doesn’t fit within his previously established framework.

Since the teachings of Pirkay Avos are not halachic obligations, but (as Tiferes Yisroel points out on this very part of our Mishna) advice for the best way to approach things, Rabbi Yehuda ben Tabai is not outlawing becoming a lawyer, just telling his students that not only are they better off not becoming lawyers (because it means putting their clients interests above the truth, even if nothing untrue is said), but they should not act the way lawyers do either; they shouldn’t advocate for anything or anyone, evaluating every situation on its own merits instead.

Normally, advising one litigant means advocating for one side, which is what is being advised against. When it comes to relatives, though, we are supposed to help them out, so Rabbi Yochanan and Rabbi Nachman (in the Talmud) gave their relatives advice. Nevertheless, since those in a position of authority could be seen as using their stature to impact the case (not just advising their relatives how to proceed within the case), they regretted having done so.