Be not Overly Modest: Tseni'ut and the Inability to Speak About Sex

Tseni'ut, or modesty, is one of the central values of Orthodox Judaism, one that not only distinguishes Orthodox Jews within the larger Jewish spectrum, but also within much of the Western world. To the best of my knowledge, observance of shemirat negi'ah, the restriction on pre-marital physical contact between the genders, and of the halakhic requirement for married women to cover their hair, both practices traditionally associated with modesty, are prevalent only among Orthodox Jews. However, there are other expressions of modesty in the Orthodox world which are not of a strictly halakhic nature, such as the frowning upon of speaking about topics which are deemed “inappropriate,” as well as the general manner in which a person, male or female, conducts him or herself on a day-to-day basis, shying away from venues and activities that are viewed as promiscuous. It is to this area of modesty, much more loosely defined halakhically, that I turn my attention in this article.

I would like to focus on two expressions of this emphasis on modesty and the negative effects this emphasis has. The first issue I will discuss is the inability to speak and teach openly about important sexual matters and the negative consequences this has on the lives of married couples. I will then focus on the  troubling effects of Jewish education concerning modesty, specifically on how this affects women’s views of themselves as well as men’s views of them. It should be noted that this article neither regards the halakhot of modesty, nor the idea of modesty in general, as problematic. Rather, it is my contention that the overemphasis on modesty, or on concerns that purport to stem from modesty, has truly negative effects, and this article aims at bringing those effects to light.

Let us begin this discussion with an aggadah found towards the end of Berakhot (62a):

“R. Kahana once went in and hid under Rav’s bed. He heard him chatting [with his wife] and joking and doing what he required. He [R. Kahana] said to him: ‘One would think that Abba’s mouth had never sipped the dish before!’ He said to him: ‘Kahana, are you here? Go out, because it is rude.’  He replied: ‘It is a matter of Torah, and I need to learn it.’”

While a number of lessons can be gleaned from the above aggadah, such as the importance of Torah and its pervasiveness throughout all aspects of an individual’s life, the message which strikes me the most is the implicit criticism of the lack of communication between Rav and R. Kahana, between teacher and student, on this issue. The only reason R. Kahana was forced to go to such great lengths to learn about the laws concerning the sexual relationship of husbands and wives was that there was no other context in which he could do so. The Talmud, written over fifteen hundred years ago, teaches us a lesson here about the perils of an overly modest society and the effect it has on the ability of teachers to inform students about matters concerning sexuality.

Despite the efforts of the Talmud to caution against this extreme modesty and the negative effects this orientation has on teachers’ abilities to communicate with their students, similar problems plague Orthodox Judaism today. Recently, a study was conducted by a group of Orthodox medical professionals and religious counselors in an effort to explore the effects of the laws of Taharat ha-Mishpahah (family purity) and modesty in general on the sexual lives of Orthodox Jewish women.[i] This study was performed through the medium of voluntary questionnaires distributed to women across the Orthodox spectrum who observe the laws of Taharat ha-Mishpahah. In discussing the issue of preparation for sexual intercourse immediately prior to marriage, the study presents the following findings:

“...[M]ore than a third of the respondents were disappointed on their wedding night and only 15 percent stated that their wedding night was better than expected. Almost half the respondents, [sic] stated that they could have been better prepared for married sexual life. Despite the fact that almost 90 percent of the women in our sample studied with a kallah teacher prior to marriage, only 50 percent learned about sexual matters from this source…”[ii]

We see clearly that although there exist forums where these topics can be discussed in a modest setting, such as in the context of a kallah class, these opportunities are not taken advantage of by those teaching the classes or by the students.

Clearly, things have not changed very much since the times of the aggadah in Berakhot. The matters described above regarding which the women in the study wished they had been better educated are crucial, as it is extremely important that both partners in a marriage feel fulfilled in all the various aspects of their relationship. This study clearly indicates the difficulties Orthodox Judaism’s emphasis on modesty creates for educating women on sexual matters necessary for them to lead sexually fulfilling lives.

While this research focused on Orthodox women, it would certainly be a mistake to assume that men do no share similar sentiments.  In speaking with a close friend of mine, whom we shall refer to as “Avi,” the week prior to his marriage, he related a conversation he had recently had with a rabbi he feels close to and holds in high esteem. Avi was concerned about what to expect on his wedding night. Following this rabbi’s response to the effect of, “You’ll figure it out,” Avi bluntly said the following:

“When my grandfather was a little boy in Germany, his father wanted to teach him how to swim. One day, he took my grandfather to a lake, picked him up, threw him into the water, and thus ended my grandfather’s swimming lesson. You’re pretty much telling me that that is what my wedding night is going to be like?!”

To this objection, the rabbi responded in the affirmative, reiterating his earlier statement that Avi would “figure it out.” While I never asked Avi how his wedding night panned out in the end, the inability for him to communicate with his rabbi is apparent.

I would like to make one last point about the difficulties modesty presents for sexual education. If we recall for a moment the aggadah in Berakhot, we will notice that R. Kahana did indeed act extremely immodestly himself. After all, listening to his teacher engage in marital relations with his wife is most certainly indecent. What we see from this part of the aggadah, then, is that when a student cannot attain desired knowledge about sexual relationships in a modest setting, he or she will be forced to learn this information by a more immodest method. While I am certain that it is unlikely for young men and women to go to the ends that R. Kahana went, I am equally certain that many pursue other forums that are less “kosher” than guidance from an educated teacher  in order to learn about sex.

I would like now to discuss the negative effects of the current methods used for education about modesty. That these effects burden young women primarily should not come as a surprise, as it is generally they, not young men, who are given any education whatsoever on these matters. In fact, while, to my knowledge, a large number, maybe even a majority, of post-high school seminaries have classes devoted specifically to modesty, I am unaware of a single educational institution for men which has a parallel educational opportunity. In her book Feminism Encounters Traditional Judaism: Resistance and Accommodation, Tova Hartman records the following incident concerning the experience of a young woman during her post-high school year in seminary:

“A young male teacher, before giving an evening lecture, placed a bowl of pastry in the center of the table. As the girls reached for the pastry, he stopped them, explaining that they had to wait until the end of the lecture. He left the pastry in the middle of the table and taught the class. At the end, as the girls finally began to eat, he said dramatically: ‘Remember how distracted you were by those pastries? That is exactly how I feel when you don’t dress modestly.’”[iii]

The above incident is highly disturbing for a number of reasons. Even if one were to assume that, in fact, girls are less sexually stimulated by the sight of boys than boys are by the sight of girls, this rabbi takes that as justification for placing his own responsibility to live modestly on the women he is teaching. He does not see a man’s assumed tendency to be overly sexual as an opportunity to increase his own moral and religious rigor; rather, he places the responsibility for controlling his own urges on his female students, which is incredibly selfish and troubling. Furthermore, he transforms a woman’s  own requirement to live modestly from a religious and personal experience between her and God and between her and herself into an obligation not to God but to men. Here, I believe, an overemphasis on modesty in the education of women belies a terrible selfishness and one-sidedness on the part of the men teaching them and contributes to a skewed view of the role of women’s modesty in their religious lives.

            Another equally important issue that is affected by the education of women concerning modesty is the view they develop of themselves. In the study discussed above, one woman reports: “Growing up religious, you are taught to feel that girls should not be forward...it’s OK to be more forward and guide my husband to please me.”[iv] Here, we clearly see that the way women are educated regarding modesty creates a self-image of non-sexuality, a view which is challenged upon entering into marriage and which stunts the ability of a couple to have a healthy sexual relationship.

It should be evident that tseni'ut, while a beautiful idea, has its problems, at least insofar as it causes difficulties in the ability for couples to communicate about important marital issues. While the halakhot that surround modesty are to be embraced and reinforced, a more open attitude toward discussing sex is important in order to cultivate healthy and fulfilling relationships between husbands and wives. Furthermore, a more gender-balanced way of educating about tseni’ut is necessary to foster a healthy view of women by men as well as a healthy self-image for women. While our ideals are very beautiful in theory, we must be vigilant to maintain that beauty in practice.

Emmanuel Sanders is a senior at YC majoring in Jewish Studies and Philosophy and is a Staff Writer for Kol Hamevaser.