The Haredi World’s One-Track Education Problem

On Shavuot night in Jerusalem, I had an unpleasant encounter with a group of yeshiva students whose behavior was entirely inappropriate for young men studying to become religious leaders.

But as upsetting as the incident was, it left me thinking about something much bigger than the conduct of a few immature students.

It forced me to ask a question that much of the Haredi world has spent decades avoiding:

What happens to young men who simply are not built for full-time Torah scholarship?

For generations, large parts of the Haredi community have operated on the assumption that virtually every young man should remain in advanced Torah study for as long as possible. The ideal is noble. Torah learning is the lifeblood of Jewish civilization. The Jewish people need scholars, rabbis, judges, educators, and spiritual leaders.

But we also need honesty.

Not every young man is destined to become a great Torah scholar.

And pretending otherwise harms both the individual and the community.

In America, approximately 44.5 percent of adults hold a bachelor’s degree or higher. Roughly 55 percent possess some form of post-secondary credential. That means nearly half the population does not pursue traditional academic pathways.

No one views this as a failure.

A healthy society understands that people possess different talents.

Some are scholars.

Some are entrepreneurs.

Some are builders.

Some are engineers.

Some are artists.

Some are soldiers.

A nation flourishes when it creates pathways for all of them.

“Not every Jewish boy is meant to become a Torah scholar. But every Jewish boy is meant to become something great.”

When I studied in Jerusalem in the 1980s, I loved learning. I immersed myself in Torah from morning until night. I studied with passion and enthusiasm because I genuinely wanted to master the texts and understand them deeply.

But I still remember a student who sat directly in front of me.

He was a wonderful young man.

Kind. Respectful. Good-hearted.

Yet every day he stared out the window.

Hour after hour.

Day after day.

He wasn’t learning.

He wasn’t growing.

He was enduring.

The yeshiva was not his place.

Not because he lacked character.

Not because he lacked intelligence.

But because God had clearly created him for a different purpose.

I often wonder what became of him.

Perhaps he would have made an exceptional military officer.

Perhaps a successful businessman.

Perhaps an engineer.

Perhaps a builder of Jewish institutions.

Instead, years of his life were spent in an educational framework that did not match his gifts.

How many thousands of young men today are living the same story?

The problem is not that too many students leave the study hall.

The problem is that too many were never meant to spend their entire lives there.

“The greatest educational mistake is assuming that every child has the same calling.”

When young men are placed in environments where they cannot thrive, boredom follows.

Frustration follows.

Aimlessness follows.

Too often, unhealthy behavior follows as well.

The answer is not to lower standards.

Nor is it to diminish the importance of Torah scholarship.

The answer is differentiation.

We should identify exceptional scholars and invest heavily in their development.

But we should also create honorable alternatives for those whose talents lie elsewhere.

The most obvious example is military service.

For decades, discussions about Haredi enlistment have been framed as a battle between Torah and the army.

That is a false choice.

The real question is whether young men who are not flourishing in yeshiva should be given meaningful opportunities to serve the Jewish people.

The answer should be self-evident.

The Israel Defense Forces teach discipline, responsibility, leadership, teamwork, sacrifice, and service.

Most importantly, they teach young Jews to confront the actual enemies of the Jewish people.

Israel needs Torah scholars.

But Israel also needs soldiers.

The Jewish people need rabbis.

But they also need commanders.

They need teachers.

But they also need defenders.

“A young man who is not succeeding in yeshiva is not a failure. The real failure is refusing to help him find where he can succeed.”

For too long, parts of the Haredi world have treated alternative paths as second-class options. The result has been generations of young men forced into a single mold regardless of their individual talents.

That approach serves neither Torah nor the Jewish people.

The challenge before us is not to produce fewer Torah scholars.

It is to produce more successful Jews.

Some will serve through scholarship.

Some through business.

Some through public service.

And many through defending the Jewish state.

The Jewish people need all of them.

Recognizing that truth is not a threat to Torah.

It is one of the greatest ways to honor.

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach is the international bestselling author of thirty-eight books, translated into more than twenty languages. He has been hailed as “the most famous rabbi in America” (The Washington Post, Newsweek), “arguably the most famous Orthodox Jew on earth” (The New York Observer), and named one of the fifty most influential Jews in the world (The Jerusalem Post).