Inspired not so much by the spectacle of diplomats and heads of state riding their jets to Glasgow for a climate-change conference as by the fact that this year is shmitah, during which the Bible forbids reaping and sowing, Rabbi Benayahu Tavila reflects on what duties ḥaredi Jews have toward the environment. Tavila sees as a key source for such a duty a classical rabbinic commentary to Ecclesiastes, which has God telling Adam, “Beware that you should not destroy and ruin my world.” But this duty is not absolute; rather it stands in tension with the biblical command to “fill the earth and subdue it.”

What is the cost of humanity’s extractive invasion of nature? One cost is to our self-image. Having conquered technological peaks that were hitherto science-fiction at best, we now see ourselves as being capable of virtually anything. Society sees neither technological nor (given the great benefits) moral limits to its progress, and therefore no limits to how much human beings ought to manipulate nature. But we should always remember that we do not own the earth. God does. He made the world a certain way. Harm to creation consists in destroying the capacities with which it is endowed by God.

There is a point at which the planet will not be sufficiently able to replenish itself for our children and grandchildren to enjoy what we enjoy. Technological progress without restraint means living at the expense of the unborn. This is neither halalkhically acceptable nor morally permissible.

Thus, unlike some secular environmentalists who see human procreation as itself a threat to the planet, Tavila sees in the divine command to populate the earth an obligation to preserve it:

The human’s ability to rule the world derives from his similarity to God. . . . But the commandment of conquest and dominion follows from an earlier instruction to to “be fruitful and multiply.” The plain meaning of the text refers to another, additional aspect: the ability to create, and especially to procreate. Adam himself creates “in his own image and likeness.” Even man creates in God’s image.

Our basic responsibility to the world derives from our responsibility to observe the commandment to “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth,” . . . and this commandment itself requires us to ensure we leave future generations with resources.

While it is commendable that administrators of several universities finally called upon police to crack down on violent and disruptive anti-Israel protests, the actions they have taken may be insufficient. At Columbia, demonstrators reestablished their encampment on the main quad after it had been cleared by the police, and the university seems reluctant to use force again. The school also decided to hold classes remotely until the end of the semester. Such moves, whatever their merits, do nothing to fix the factors that allowed campuses to become hotbeds of pro-Hamas activism in the first place. The editors of National Review examine how things go to this point:

Since the 10/7 massacre, Columbia’s Jewish students have been forced to endure routine calls for their execution. It shouldn’t have taken the slaughter, rape, and brutalization of Israeli Jews to expose chants like “Globalize the intifada” and “Death to the Zionist state” as calls for violence, but the university refused to intervene on behalf of its besieged students. When an Israeli student was beaten with a stick outside Columbia’s library, it occasioned little soul-searching from faculty. Indeed, it served only as the impetus to establish an “Anti-Semitism Task Force,” which subsequently expressed “serious concerns” about the university’s commitment to enforcing its codes of conduct against anti-Semitic violators.

But little was done. Indeed, as late as last month the school served as host to speakers who praised the 10/7 attacks and even “hijacking airplanes” as “important tactics that the Palestinian resistance have engaged in.”

The school’s lackadaisical approach created a permission structure to menace and harass Jewish students, and that’s what happened. . . . Now is the time finally to do something about this kind of harassment and associated acts of trespass and disorder. Yale did the right thing when police cleared out an encampment [on Monday]. But Columbia remains a daily reminder of what happens when freaks and haters are allowed to impose their will on campus.