I have a dilemma and I’d honestly like to hear from you, our readers, with your thoughts. After you read this, please email me.
I love my Tesla Model 3. It’s fun to drive, fast, full of bells and whistles, and—most importantly—it is a huge part of my efforts to reduce my carbon impact. The Tesla charging network is a gamechanger—there’s virtually no range anxiety! Given my wife’s satisfaction with her Tesla, there’s no question that there will never be a combustion engine car in the Sobelman-Stern household again.
My problem is Elon Musk. Up until recently, it was possible to see him as a strange, often offensive, quirky, yet brilliantly innovative developer of cutting-edge technology. Whether the Tesla company, Space X, or even Starlink satellites, Musk had the vision and capability to get his ideas to market. He has transformed the EV market, brought the internet to the farthest corners of our planet, and managed to privatize and improve the space industry.
However, with the purchase of Twitter—now X—Musk has revealed a dark side. In the past, though he’s often pushed up to the edge, he’s stopped just short of antisemitism. In the last week, things have changed. His latest back-and-forth with the Anti-Defamation League and his promulgation of extreme right-wing antisemitic tropes has clearly crossed over the line. Though he denies that he’s antisemitic, he’s allowed the dirty underbelly of antisemitism to flourish on the rapidly disintegrating social media platform that he seems bent on destroying. He’s resorted to accusing the ADL of singlehandedly causing X’s loss of income and has recently announced his intentions to file a suit against the company. Echoing the dangerously fringe Alex Jones, Musk has declared that the ADL encourages antisemitism by seeking to silence antisemites. You can see ADL’s response statement here.
Musk has been called the most dangerous American antisemite since Henry Ford by The Forward and the Los Angeles Times.
So, I’ve pretty much decided that at this point I’m unlikely to purchase another Tesla, at least until Musk has some kind of a reckoning. My ethical commitment to the Jewish community has trumped my love of the car. You might ask: “What about Ford, BMW, Porsche, and Mercedes?” To which I reply: All of those companies have moved beyond their associations with antisemitism in meaningful ways. Germany, as a country, has called itself to account for its mid-20th century atrocities in ways that no other nation has. It remains an example of national t’shuvah.
I’m posing this dilemma to our community now, not only because the events are recent, but also because as the High Holy Days approach we are tasked with becoming our authentic selves. Judaism believes that the essential core of who we are is virtuous and capable of rising beyond our urges. I’m always struck by the rationale for the tzitzit (fringes) that hang from a tallit: so that you do not follow your heart and eyes in your lustful urge. (Numbers 15:39)
Circumstances like this are the real-life moments when we must balance our desires with our virtues. If the process were easy, we wouldn’t gather for the High Holy Days every year.
What are your thoughts? To what extent should our identity as Jews affect our consumerism? What would you do?
—Rabbi Ron Stern