Save " Session 3: Aish and Emissions – Halachic Language for Modern Harm"
Session 3: Aish and Emissions – Halachic Language for Modern Harm
Set Induction:
Think of a fire you’ve witnessed, but not a literal one. It might be a technology, a habit, an invention, or a system that started out with promise but now feels out of control. Think of something we, individually or collectively, set in motion that’s now harming others or the planet.
The rabbis of the Talmud understood fire as a force that once unleashed, could travel far beyond the boundaries of its origin. They asked: If your fire burns someone else’s field, even through wind or time—are you responsible?Today, we burn fossil fuels, generate toxic waste, create digital outrage, even ignite misinformation. Fires we set here can injure there. What does Jewish law and ethics say about this kind of harm?
Connecting to the Text:
Bava Kamma 22a defines Aish/fire, as a legal and moral category. And then we’ll see how contemporary teacher Rabbi Ariel Mayse, in the piece, "Rights, Obligations, and Myths: Thinking with Jewish Environmental Law and Ethics", stretches that flame forward, asking: What happens when “your fire” becomes a pipeline leak, a smokestack, or a culture of ecological neglect? Can Halacha help us name, and take responsibility for the modern fires we’ve set loose?
וְהָתַנְיָא: הַכֶּלֶב וְהַגְּדִי שֶׁדִּילְּגוּ; בֵּין מִלְּמַעְלָה לְמַטָּה, בֵּין מִלְּמַטָּה לְמַעְלָה – פְּטוּרִין! תַּרְגְּמַאּ רַב פָּפָּא: דְּאָפֵיךְ מֵיפָךְ – כַּלְבָּא בִּזְקִירָא וְגַדְיָא בִּסְרִיכָא. אִי הָכִי, אַמַּאי פְּטוּרִים? פָּטוּר מִנֶּזֶק שָׁלֵם, וְחַיָּיבִין בַּחֲצִי נֶזֶק. הַכֶּלֶב שֶׁנָּטַל. אִתְּמַר, רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן אָמַר: אִשּׁוֹ – מִשּׁוּם חִצָּיו. וְרֵישׁ לָקִישׁ אָמַר: אִשּׁוֹ – מִשּׁוּם מָמוֹנוֹ. וְרֵישׁ לָקִישׁ – מַאי טַעְמָא לָא אָמַר כְּרַבִּי יוֹחָנָן? אָמַר לָךְ: חִצָּיו – מִכֹּחוֹ קָאָזְלִי, הַאי – לָא מִכֹּחוֹ קָאָזֵיל. וְרַבִּי יוֹחָנָן – מַאי טַעְמָא לָא אָמַר כְּרֵישׁ לָקִישׁ? אָמַר לָךְ: מָמוֹנָא – אִית בֵּיהּ מַמָּשָׁא, הָא – לֵית בֵּיהּ מַמָּשָׁא. תְּנַן: הַכֶּלֶב שֶׁנָּטַל חֲרָרָה כּוּ׳. בִּשְׁלָמָא לְמַאן דְּאָמַר: אִשּׁוֹ מִשּׁוּם חִצָּיו – חִצָּיו דְּכֶלֶב הוּא; אֶלָּא לְמַאן דְּאָמַר: אִשּׁוֹ מִשּׁוּם מָמוֹנוֹ – הַאי אֵשׁ, לָאו מָמוֹנוֹ דְּבַעַל כֶּלֶב הוּא! אָמַר לָךְ רֵישׁ לָקִישׁ: הָכָא בְּמַאי עָסְקִינַן – דְּאַדְּיֵיהּ אַדּוֹיֵי; דְּעַל חֲרָרָה מְשַׁלֵּם נֶזֶק שָׁלֵם, וְעַל מָקוֹם גַּחֶלֶת מְשַׁלֵּם חֲצִי נֶזֶק, וְעַל גָּדִישׁ כּוּלֵּהּ פָּטוּר. וְרַבִּי יוֹחָנָן – דְּאַנְּחַהּ אַנּוֹחֵי; עַל חֲרָרָה וְעַל מְקוֹם גַּחֶלֶת מְשַׁלֵּם נֶזֶק שָׁלֵם, וְעַל הַגָּדִישׁ מְשַׁלֵּם חֲצִי נֶזֶק. תָּא שְׁמַע: גָּמָל טָעוּן פִּשְׁתָּן וְעָבַר בִּרְשׁוּת הָרַבִּים; נִכְנְסָה פִּשְׁתָּנוֹ לְתוֹךְ הַחֲנוּת (וְדָלְקוּ), [וְדָלְקָה] בְּנֵרוֹ שֶׁל חֶנְווֹנִי, וְהִדְלִיק אֶת הַבִּירָה – בַּעַל גָּמָל חַיָּיב. הִנִּיחַ חֶנְווֹנִי נֵרוֹ מִבַּחוּץ – חֶנְווֹנִי חַיָּיב. רַבִּי יְהוּדָה אוֹמֵר: בְּנֵר חֲנוּכָּה – פָּטוּר. בִּשְׁלָמָא לְמַאן דְּאָמַר אִשּׁוֹ מִשּׁוּם חִצָּיו – חִצָּיו דְּגָמָל הוּא. אֶלָּא לְמַאן דְּאָמַר מִשּׁוּם מָמוֹנוֹ – הַאי אֵשׁ, לָאו מָמוֹנָא דְּבַעַל גָּמָל הוּא! אָמַר לָךְ רֵישׁ לָקִישׁ: הָכָא בְּמַאי עָסְקִינַן – בִּמְסַכְסֶכֶת כׇּל הַבִּירָה כּוּלָּהּ. אִי הָכִי, אֵימָא סֵיפָא: אִם הִנִּיחַ חֶנְווֹנִי נֵרוֹ מִבַּחוּץ – חֶנְווֹנִי חַיָּיב. וְאִי בִּמְסַכְסֶכֶת – אַמַּאי חַיָּיב? בְּשֶׁעָמְדָה. עָמְדָה וְסִכְסְכָה – כׇּל שֶׁכֵּן דְּחֶנְווֹנִי פָּטוּר וּבַעַל גָּמָל חַיָּיב! אָמַר רַב הוּנָא בַּר מָנוֹחַ מִשְּׁמֵיהּ דְּרַב אִיקָא: הָכָא בְּמַאי עָסְקִינַן – כְּגוֹן שֶׁעָמְדָה לְהַטִּיל מֵימֶיהָ;
The Gemara asks: But isn’t it taught in a baraita: If a dog or a goat jumped, regardless of whether they jumped from above to below or from below to above, their owners are exempt from all liability? Rav Pappa interpreted it in the following way: Their manners of movement were changed from the typical manner of movement for their species. The dog moved by leaping [bizkira], while the goat moved by climbing [bisrikha]. The Gemara asks: If that is so, why are the owners exempt from liability? After all, they still caused damage. The Gemara answers: The baraita does not intend to say that they are completely exempt, but that they are exempt from paying the full cost of the damage; they are, however, liable to pay half the cost of the damage, as is the halakha in any case of damage caused by atypical behavior, as such acts are classified as Goring. § The mishna teaches: With regard to a dog that took a cake that had been baked directly on hot coals, and went to a stack of grain to eat it, and it ate the cake and at the same time ignited the stack of grain with a coal that it had taken along with the cake, the owner of the dog must pay the full cost of the damage for the cake, and he must pay for half the cost of the damage to the stack of grain. With regard to damage caused by a fire lit by one person spreading to a location other than where it was lit, the Gemara cites a dispute among the amora’im: It was stated: Rabbi Yoḥanan says: His liability for damage caused by his fire is due to its similarity to his arrows, meaning that damage caused by a fire in a location other than where it was lit is comparable to damage caused by an arrow shot at a distant target. And Reish Lakish says: His liability for the damage caused by his fire is due to its similarity to his property; he is responsible for this damage just as he is responsible for damage caused elsewhere by any of his possessions, e.g., one of his animals. The Gemara asks: And what is the reason that Reish Lakish did not state his opinion in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yoḥanan? The Gemara answers: He could have said to you that fire is not comparable to an arrow, as an arrow proceeds as a result of his direct force, while this fire does not proceed as a result of his direct force, but requires a wind to carry it from the location where it was lit to the location of the damage. The Gemara asks about the other opinion: And what is the reason that Rabbi Yoḥanan did not state his opinion in accordance with the opinion of Reish Lakish? The Gemara answers: He could have said to you that one’s fire is not comparable to his possessions, as property is a tangible substance but this fire is not a tangible substance. The Gemara attempts to settle the dispute: We learned in the mishna: With regard to a dog that took a cake that had been baked directly on hot coals, and went to a stack of grain to eat it, and it ate the cake and at the same time ignited the stack of grain with a coal that it had taken along with the cake, the owner of the dog must pay the full cost of the damage for the cake, and he must pay for half the cost of the damage to the stack of grain. Granted, according to the one who says that one’s liability for damage caused by his fire is due to its similarity to his arrows, this fire is similar to the arrows of the dog, and therefore he must pay for half the cost of the damage caused by the dog’s force, as in a case of pebbles. But according to the one who says that one’s liability for damage caused by his fire is due to its similarity to his property, this fire is not the property of the owner of the dog; rather, it is the property of the owner of the cake, so why is the owner of the dog liable? The Gemara answers: Reish Lakish could have said to you: With what are we dealing here? We are dealing with a case where the dog took the coal and did not place the cake on the stack, rather it threw it onto the stack. The ruling of the mishna is: For the cake which the dog ate, the owner must pay the full cost of the damage, and for the specific spot on the stack of grain that was damaged by the throwing of the coal there, the owner must pay for half the cost of the damage as in a case of pebbles. And for the stack of grain as a whole, he is exempt, because his liability for damage caused by the spread of the fire is due to its similarity to his property, and in this case it was not his property. But Rabbi Yoḥanan can explain the mishna in a more straightforward manner. It is discussing a case where the dog placed the cake with the coal directly on the stack of grain in order to eat the cake. Accordingly, the owner of the dog must pay the full cost of the damage for the cake and for the specific spot where the coal was put down, as these cases of damage were caused directly by the dog. And for the rest of the stack of grain, he must pay for half the cost of the damage, because in Rabbi Yoḥanan’s opinion one is liable for the damage caused by fire due to its similarity to arrows shot by his force. The damage to the rest of the stack of grain is an indirect result of the dog’s force, and therefore his liability is according the halakhot of pebbles. The Gemara suggests: Come and hear a proof from a mishna (62b): In the case of a camel that was laden with flax and was passing through the public domain, and its flax extended into a store at the edge of the public domain, and the flax caught fire from a lamp in the store belonging to the storekeeper, and as a result of the burning flax the camel set fire to the building together with all its contents, the owner of the camel is liable for the damage. But if the storekeeper placed his lamp outside in the public domain, thereby causing the flax on the camel to catch fire, and consequently the building was set on fire, the storekeeper is liable. Rabbi Yehuda says: In a case where the lamp placed outside was a Hanukkah lamp, the storekeeper is exempt from liability, as there is a mitzva to place a Hanukkah lamp outside. Granted, according to the one who says that one’s liability for the damage caused by his fire is due to its similarity to his arrows, the fire in the store is similar to the arrows of the camel, and that is why the camel’s owner is liable. But according to the one who says that liability for the damage is due to its similarity to his property, this fire is not the property of the owner of the camel. The Gemara answers: Reish Lakish could have said to you: With what are we dealing here? We are dealing with a case where the camel moved the burning flax around and ignited the entire building, lighting one spot after another. The fire did not need to spread since the camel directly set the building on fire in each of those spots, and therefore this case is comparable to that of a dog who moved the coal around from place to place. The Gemara asks: If that is so, say the latter clause of the mishna: If the storekeeper placed his lamp outside, the storekeeper is liable. And if the case is one where the camel ignited the entire building, spot by spot, why is the storekeeper liable? His fire did not spread through the building; it was the camel that moved it around from one place to another. The Gemara answers: The case is one where the camel did not move around, but rather stood still, but since there was an extremely large load of flax on its back, once it caught fire it ignited the entire building simultaneously. The Gemara asks: If the camel stood without moving from place to place, but did shift the load on its back and thereby ignited the entire building, all the more so it should be that the storekeeper should be exempt from any liability and the owner of the camel should be liable, as it was his responsibility to move the camel away from there. Rav Huna bar Manoah said in the name of Rav Ika: With what are we dealing here? We are dealing with a case where the camel stood still in order to urinate and while doing so set the building ablaze; in that case the incident is deemed an accident as the owner could not have moved the camel from the spot.
Read This Excerpt by: Mayse
https://www.icloud.com/iclouddrive/03bjQLq-sf6NPNXEPtapzuJgw
In Summary:
Bava Kamma 22a presents a Talmudic debate about the legal category of Aish (fire) specifically, how we hold someone accountable if a fire they started causes damage: Rabbi Yohanan sees fire as an extension of the person—like shooting an arrow (Aish mishum hetzav). You are responsible because your action set it in motion.Reish Lakish sees fire as your property (Aish mishum mamon). You are responsible not because of direct intent, but because it was your "thing" that caused the harm. Ariel Mayse picks up this debate and stretches it into the modern environmental context, arguing that pollution, emissions, and ecological destruction are today’s forms of fire/ arrows we unleash that cause harm, often across great distances and timescales.
Let's Discuss Themes:
The halachic category of aish (fire) as environmental metaphor.
In Bava Kamma 22a, aish is understood as a force that begins under human control but extends beyond it, potentially causing harm at a distance—a perfect metaphor for environmental harm in the modern age. Whether fire is treated as one's property (mamon) or one's arrows (hetzav), the Halacha is clear: the person who set the fire is responsible for its impact, even when natural forces (like wind) spread the destruction. In Jewish law, even unintentional harm carries consequences. Halacha demands a kind of radical responsibility: if you could have foreseen it, you must account for it.
Fossil fuels and pollution as “your fire”.
Ariel Mayse interprets aish as a legal category that can encompass emissions, pollutants, and fossil fuel combustion—forces released by human activity, often unintentionally, that nevertheless wreak long-term harm. This metaphor shifts pollution from a passive byproduct to an active moral and legal act: something you started and are accountable for.
The legal and moral reach of rabbinic torts
Rabbinic tort law (nezikin) doesn’t simply legislate financial restitution, it builds a framework of moral accountability. Unlike many modern legal systems, which focus on rights and often require direct proof of causation, rabbinic law expands the scope of liability based on:
Foreseeability: Could you have known this harm might result?
Causality through natural forces: Did something you set in motion travel further than you intended?
Ethical proximity: Even when the harm seems distant, you are not off the hook.
This reaches into the heart of our climate crisis: Halacha teaches that proximity is not permission. A factory in one country causing floods in another is still liable in principle because moral action includes its ripple effects.
These themes anticipate the dangers of deferred responsibilityHolds us accountable for the long-term effects of our choicesOffers not just legal limits, but moral imperatives.
“Jewish law offers a fundamentally different vision of the individual’s role in the non-human world... built not on ownership or rights, but on shared obligation.” (Mayse)
Questions to ponder::
On "Your Fire"
If your car emits carbon that contributes to climate change, is that “your fire”?
What about a government that approves pipelines or oil drilling—are those fires they’ve set?
In what ways does pollution resemble the kind of fire Bava Kamma describes—spreading, damaging, hard to trace?
Does it matter if the damage is slow, invisible, or global?
On Torts and Moral Responsibility:
Rabbinic tort law includes obligations for unintentional harm. Should this principle apply to environmental negligence?
What would our world look like if polluters had to pay ripui (healing) and shevet (lost labor) to victims of ecological disaster?
Mayse suggests that halacha's focus on obligations—not rights—can reframe climate ethics.
What does it mean to live as if we are obligated to the earth and to future generations?
Questions to discuss in chevruta:
What “fires” have we (personally or communally) started in our lifetimes?Are we doing enough to take responsibility for them?
If Jewish law held us accountable for climate harm, what would that demand of us?
Would we act differently in our consumption, policy advocacy, or synagogue leadership?
Where do we draw the line between moral outrage and moral accountability?Is it enough to oppose climate injustice—or must we repair what our hands have harmed?
Closing Thoughts:
The rabbis of the Talmud understood that fire doesn’t stop where you put it. It spreads—carried by wind, time, and neglect. Today, the fires we light are not always visible: they’re smokestacks, gas leaks, rising oceans, and poisoned air. And yet, Halacha still speaks: If it’s your fire, it’s your responsibility.
Ariel Mayse teaches us that Jewish law offers more than rules, it offers a way to live in relationship: not just with each other, but with the land, the future, and even with our unintended consequences. So the question we’re left with isn’t just: Whose fire is it? It’s also: What will we do to contain it, to repair it, and to prevent the next one?
“You shall not destroy My world, for there is no one to repair it after you.”— Midrash Kohelet Rabbah 7:13