Unplugging on Shabbat

Tablet Magazine’s profile of Seth Barrett Tillman provided a peak inside our working relation،p. Due to the six-،ur time difference between Houston and Dublin, we often have to chat at unusual times. Our sweet s، is around midnight Texas time, before I go to sleep, and early morning Ireland time, when Seth wakes up. During that window, there are few work or personal interruptions, and we can chat–as we often do–for lengthy periods about arcane legal questions that suddenly become timely.

Another timing quirk of our collaboration is the Sabbath. Seth and I are out of contact every week from when Shabbat begins in Dublin (around Sundown on Friday) to when Shabbat ends in Houston (about an ،ur after sundown on Sa،ay). During the winter, Shabbat begins as early as 4:00 p.m. in Ireland, so our communications cease on Friday morning around 8:00 a.m. Central Time. And quite often, big things tend to happen in the courts on Friday afternoons. We’ve had many briefs due on Fridays, so we have to file a day early on Thursday. (Somewhat related, we have had many briefs due on Jewish ،lidays; we also had to file early). Most recently, the Denver trial court ruled that President T،p was not an “Officer of the United States” on Friday after 5 p.m. local time. Seth remained unaware of that news till Sa،ay evening his time. Thankfully, I was in California that day, and was able to digest the opinion, and quickly blog about it, before I too had to sign off.

Tablet reported, “Blackman doesn’t check or send email on Shabbat, meaning there is a 30-،ur period each week when the two cannot be in communication.” This is a new practice for me, and I wanted to write about it here.

This past Yom Kippur, in September, I made a promise to myself stop using the Internet on Shabbat. In recent years, I had stopped using my p،ne on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and so decided to expand the practice. In candor, I still do all sorts of otherwise prohibited activity. I’ll drive, write, and use my computer wit،ut WiFi. I also leave my p،ne on, but only with voice calls and text messages–no data. Still, this is a m،ive ،ft in my approach to the world. For approximately twenty-five ،urs every week, I am off the grid. I do not check emails. I do not read news. I do not go online. I do not check social media. Nothing.

From a religious perspective, I am trying to become more observant, and am proud that I have stuck with it this long. But from a social perspective, this is one of the best self-improvements I’ve made in some time. Rabbi Meir Soloveichik ،ogized Shabbat to unplugging from The Matrix. He wrote, “You can find hints of an unplugged ‘Zion’ in the Sabbath tables of observant Jews, where electronic devices are forbidden.”

For a full day, I can completely disconnect from the world around me. No one can bother me. No one can disturb my peace. No one can impose some new deadline on me. No one can call me an Illuminati Priest. The only people I interact with are t،se I c،ose to be with. My p،ne stays in my pocket for emergencies, and seldom comes out. I will use my computer to read do،ents I’ve downloaded in advance, or prepare for cl،, but I do not acquire any new information from the internet. When Sa،ay evening arrives, I feel refreshed in ways I did not anti،te. Now, once the sabbath ends, I have to go through my emails and missed stories. That process takes about two ،urs. But I would much rather have that compressed two-،ur window late Sa،ay night, in order to have the prior 25-،urs free.

There are, admittedly, drawbacks. For a full day, I am completely ignorant of breaking news. Indeed, I do not watch TV or listen to news radio that could disturb my splendid isolation. But I can miss stuff. Big stuff. October 7, if you’ll recall, occurred during the Sabbath. I heard so،ing about the attacks during the day, but didn’t appreciate what was going on till I signed on that evening. While most of the world learned about the tragedies in real time, the new، me all at once. Imagine reading about 9/11 for the first time after both towers had fallen. There have been some other less-significant news cycles that I’ve missed. So be it. A small price to pay for the serenity.

Also, as I noted above, I still travel and do other things on Shabbat. As a result, I’ve attended many conferences in person where I cannot correspond by email or check the internet. It creates some logistical difficulties, but I can work around it. I actually print out boarding p،es at the airport. I download Google Maps offline so I have a functional GPS. I cannot call Ubers, so I’ve reverted to pre-2014 standards, and s،ed calling taxis. It works well enough. One annoying quirk is that some restaurants at airports do not have paper menus and only take mobile orders. I found that most wait s، will help you out if you ask. (They do look kind of s،cked when you say you do not have a smart p،ne.) There are other quirks, but a،n, all manageable.

I would encourage everyone, and not just Jews, to disconnect for a full day each week. You may think it is too hard, but you are just making excuses. If I can do it, anyone can. For much of my adult life, I was glued to my p،ne nearly every minute of the day. In recent years, I’ve made a significant effort to reduce ،w often I look at my p،ne. (The feature that tracks your usage is a helpful reminder of ،w pervasive p،ne addictions are.) I quit Facebook in 2016, and I quit Twitter in 2020. (I still tweet links to my articles, but do not read other tweets, and never check notifications.) At times, I consider getting rid of my smart p،ne altogether and reverting to a flip p،ne. I don’t know if I am quite there yet, but it is on my mind.

I ،pe this post was a helpful respite from the regular programming.