Intro. [Recording date: November 27, 2025.]
Russ Roberts: Before we dive into today’s conversation, let me highlight an important detail regarding the timing of this recording.
This week, we’re tackling a sensitive yet crucial topic: understanding violence against Jews and the justifications that often accompany it. I must point out that this episode was recorded prior to the tragic attacks on Jews celebrating Chanukah at Bondi Beach in Australia—a fact that will not be referenced in our discussion today.
I’ll also share some additional insights on today’s thought-provoking episode on my Substack, Listening to the Sirens. Feel free to check it out.
Now, let’s move on to our guest.
Today is November 27th, 2025, and we are joined by the esteemed physicist, David Deutsch from Oxford University. David, welcome to EconTalk.
David Deutsch: Hi. Thanks for having me.
Russ Roberts: Today’s discussion will veer away from your notable works like The Fabric of Reality and The Beginning of Infinity. Instead, we’ll delve into your theory regarding the roots of anti-Jewish sentiment.
I must admit, I feel a bit uneasy discussing this topic on EconTalk. Many of you, especially if you’re not Jewish, might wonder why this is relevant or compelling. However, I believe it’s vital for everyone to gain a deeper understanding of their Jewish neighbors and the challenges facing the Jewish community today. Perhaps, through this lens, we can also glean insights into broader societal dynamics.
Let’s start with a narrative. Back in 2004, Mel Gibson released The Passion of Christ, a film that stirred significant controversy, particularly among Jewish organizations that felt it portrayed Jews in a negative light. The film depicted Jewish mobs and portrayed Jewish leaders as sinister figures, while casting Pontius Pilate as a reluctant participant, thus suggesting an exaggerated Jewish role in the crucifixion.
At that time, while working at the Mercatus Center at George Mason University, I was approached by several colleagues who were puzzled by the Jewish community’s reaction to the film. They asked if I could host a lunchtime session to clarify Jewish perspectives.
Though I hadn’t seen the film and had no intention of doing so, I agreed to share my thoughts on why many Jews felt uncomfortable with it.
During our discussion, I recounted that Jews have historically been accused of deicide—blamed for killing God, i.e., Jesus—which is historically inaccurate; it was the Romans who executed him.
However, my primary point was that it wasn’t the historical inaccuracies of the film that troubled Jews. Instead, it was the invocation of this ancient charge, which has historically been used to justify violence against Jews.
For instance, during the Crusades in 1096, as Crusaders journeyed to liberate Jerusalem, they stopped in France and Germany, violently killing thousands of Jews along the way, treating them as a different kind of infidel. They looted Jewish homes and synagogues, forcing conversions or death, resulting in massacres in cities like Speyer, Worms, Mainz, Cologne, Trier, and Metz. The motivations for such violence included a desire to punish Jews for allegedly killing Jesus. Hence, when a film like Gibson’s emerges, it understandably stirs anxiety within the Jewish community.
As I shared this historical context, I noticed something striking in the room. Many of my colleagues had averted their gaze, their eyes fixated on their shoes, clearly uncomfortable. When I inquired about their reactions, it was evident that this part of history—the Jewish experience during the Crusades—was entirely new to them. They expressed shame as Christians for the actions of their forebears.
It struck me that while I had learned about the Crusades in school, the specific targeting of Jews was absent from my education. For Jews, however, this was not a minor historical footnote but a monumental tragedy that resonates deeply within our cultural memory. Each summer during the Jewish month of Av, we fast and recite elegies commemorating countless historical tragedies, including the destruction of our temples and the numerous pogroms throughout the centuries, where mobs, incited by hatred, wreaked havoc on Jewish communities.
From the Rhineland massacres during the Crusades to the Khmelnytsky massacres in 1648, to Kristallnacht in 1938, where hundreds died and thousands were left homeless, the cycle of violence against Jews has persisted across centuries. The Holocaust remains the most horrific example, with six million Jews murdered. And even in recent history, events like the October 7th attacks, where innocent civilians were targeted, continue this tragic pattern.
Thus, for Jews, historical events like the Crusades are not mere footnotes; they are woven into our very identity and collective memory. This historical consciousness fosters a sense of vigilance, as we fear that complacency might lead to further tragedies.
Russ Roberts: This brings us to you, David. You present a unique perspective on the enduring history of anti-Jewish sentiments, which you refer to as the Pattern.
Could you elaborate on this concept and share your thoughts on my introductory narrative?
David Deutsch: Certainly, there are elements of your narrative with which I would respectfully disagree.
Russ Roberts: Please, go ahead.
David Deutsch: I wouldn’t assert that the Pattern began with the destruction of the Temple; I believe it predates that event. One remarkable aspect of this Pattern is its consistency across millennia—unlike most other societal memes.
Moreover, you indicated that the Crusaders massacred Jews because Jews were blamed for killing Jesus. I contend that the impetus for such violence against Jews emerged first, with the accusation serving as a later justification for that violence.
The dissonance in this justification—the fact that it makes no logical sense—fuels my desire to understand this Pattern, which I argue is distinct from just episodes of pogroms or massacres. Those are relatively rare occurrences, while the underlying impulse to legitimize harm against Jews is consistently present. This impulse often originates from the populace rather than authorities. We might be misled by the more notorious cases like the Holocaust or the Inquisition, which came from the top down, but more frequently, such violence is grassroots.
Sometimes authorities attempt to intervene; other times, they turn a blind eye or even tacitly endorse the violence until it escalates out of control. In essence, the normalization of justifying harm against Jews has been a persistent state of affairs and continues to be so today. This, I would argue, is not merely hatred; the term “Jew hate” is symptomatic, occurring sporadically, but not as the primary driving force.
This impulse conflicts with moral frameworks that exist in various cultures, particularly Christian ones. Therefore, it necessitates a form of accommodation within societies. It’s been gradually diminishing over centuries, but it still requires integration into societal worldviews.
Saint Augustine once advised that Jews should suffer but not be killed. This was meant to be a pro-Jewish stance, as it acknowledged the legitimacy of inflicting harm on Jews, while attempting to reconcile it with broader moral ideals.
The Pattern itself is not altered by fluctuations in societal belief; rather, violence erupts when there is a perceived threat to the Pattern—when moral rationalizations fail, and society begins to shift away from its acceptance of anti-Jewish sentiments.
For instance, during the Enlightenment, many believed that this would herald the end of anti-Semitism, much like the abolition of witch hunts and other forms of discrimination. However, it actually intensified. This escalation occurred because the legitimacy of harming Jews was under threat from the Enlightenment’s moral advancements.
An analogous situation arose with the establishment of the State of Israel. Zionists believed that the creation of a Jewish state would provide a legitimacy that would protect Jews from violence. Ironically, this has often led to increased hostility, unlike other nations that have emerged around the same time, which saw their legitimacy recognized and enhanced.
Russ Roberts: Let’s pause for a moment. I want to clarify your points a bit, as I find your corrections to my historical narrative intriguing.
The core enigma remains: Why, given the vast cultural and economic diversity across time and space, should there be an inclination to legitimize the persecution of a particular group? This notion of a Pattern is unsettling yet undeniably present. How does it originate?
David Deutsch: It is indeed a perplexing concept. However, I don’t think those who perpetuate this Pattern are inherently insane. This Pattern exists, to varying degrees, in almost everyone. Historically, it was mostly confined to Europe and the Near East, but in our globalized world, it has proliferated to nearly every corner of the planet.
Typically, this tendency remains subdued and does not manifest as violence or persecution. Instead, it often leads to indirect repercussions, such as the societal response to sporadic instances of violence. The origins of this inclination and its rationale remain elusive.
Understanding what the Pattern is takes precedence over explaining its origins. For instance, one must comprehend that planets orbit the sun before delving into Newton’s laws of gravitation. Similarly, trying to fit anti-Semitic violence into the mold of other irrational phenomena, such as racism or xenophobia, misrepresents its nature.
People often claim that Jews are envied, thus inciting hatred. However, envy does not universally elicit hatred, nor has it always been directed towards Jews. Prior to the Enlightenment, Jews were often perceived as primitive and superstitious. Once they began embracing Enlightenment ideals, that narrative shifted to portray them as infiltrators seeking wealth and power, even when many remained impoverished and marginalized.
Most of the victims of the Holocaust were not affluent; they were often among the lower economic classes. The contradictions inherent in these narratives reflect the irrationality of the Pattern.
The origins of this mindset are not crucial to understanding its impact. Most individuals ensnared by the Pattern remain oblivious to its roots. Thus, delving into psychological underpinnings may not yield fruitful insights.
Russ Roberts: However, you’re a rigorous scientist. You’re not just any scientist; you’ve contributed significantly to our understanding of the universe. To propose that this inclination exists without rational justification seems counterintuitive. Economists might argue that Jews historically held positions of power or economic success, which incited jealousy and led to exclusionary practices. While this notion has its merits in specific contexts, it fails to explain the pervasive nature of anti-Semitism throughout history.
In essence, you assert that across civilizations, there is a disturbing comfort with the idea that Jews deserve harm. This is a jarring concept. Many listeners might think, “I don’t feel that way, nor do those I know.” Sure, some may criticize Israel, but they don’t wish harm upon Jews. Yet, you argue otherwise, suggesting that their desire to inflict pain on Jews is often masked by a fabricated justification, be it Israel or historical grievances. The accusation of Jews as scapegoats transcends time, with each generation inventing new rationalizations for their actions.
In essence, you’re suggesting that a twisted aspect of human nature lacks empathy for a specific group, resulting in a willingness to harm them and even inciting others to act.
David Deutsch: Yes, while actual violence is rare, it manifests as an impulse to legitimize harm against Jews.
Russ Roberts: And this legitimization leads to various forms of violence, including beatings, brutalization, or worse.
This concept is undeniably distressing. Listeners may feel conflicted, especially since we’ve experienced a period with relatively few overt anti-Semitic incidents. Yet, recent events, particularly surrounding the conflict in Gaza, have reignited this troubling discourse.
Take, for instance, the behavior of certain individuals I follow on social media. Prior to October 7th, these were thoughtful, nuanced individuals with millions of followers. However, since that date, they have exclusively criticized Israel, neglecting the plight of hostages or the moral complexities faced by Israel.
They use terms like “genocide” to describe wartime tragedies, yet they don’t engage in discussions about the broader context or the suffering of both Israelis and Palestinians. Their posts often spread misinformation without correction, demonstrating a pattern of demonization toward Jews.
When I reached out to one of these individuals, expressing that their rhetoric endangered my family, I was met with resistance. They failed to acknowledge the potential consequences of their words, focusing solely on their narrative.
Historically, the illogical nature of these accusations has been a hallmark of anti-Semitism, revealing a deep-seated inability to empathize with Jews, while simultaneously ignoring the suffering of others. It’s a perverse phenomenon, one that seems to grow in intensity and frequency.
Russ Roberts: It feels somewhat condescending to suggest that such behavior stems from a “mental illness” or that individuals cannot help their irrational tendencies. This perspective may seem dismissive, but it’s also deeply unsettling.
David Deutsch: It’s crucial to avoid using ad hominem arguments in discussions about these issues. For instance, if someone claims, “Israelis are committing genocide in Gaza,” it’s invalid to counter with “You’re irrational.” Such arguments muddy the waters of honest discourse.
However, acknowledging irrationalities in human behavior is necessary. I have found myself on the side of combating various forms of irrationality throughout my career, whether in scientific discourse or moral philosophy.
Russ Roberts: Early in the current Gaza conflict, many argued that Israel needed to improve its communication strategy, often referred to as hasbara. They claimed that Israel’s poor public relations were fueling negative sentiment. This narrative has persisted for decades, painting Israelis as blunt and dismissive of others.
However, I have never believed that this is the primary issue. While I observe the discourse on social media, I see false claims being made. Should we engage in correcting these inaccuracies, or is it futile to debate those consumed by the Pattern?
David Deutsch: The rise in anti-Jewish rhetoric, even among those who do not engage in violence, is a common feature of historical pogroms. Those who stand by often lend rhetorical support to the perpetrators, despite not participating actively. This phenomenon is indicative of a broader societal issue.
Moreover, I believe that efforts to combat anti-Semitism often stem from a misunderstanding of its root causes. Many organizations view this as a problem of education or prejudice. However, I argue that a deeper understanding of the Pattern is necessary to effectively address it.
While there’s no straightforward answer regarding whether one should respond to factual inaccuracies, I sometimes do so to help newcomers to the discourse understand the complexities involved.
Russ Roberts: Let’s discuss how to approach this issue. As a practicing Jew, I often wonder whether assimilation might be a viable solution. Herzl envisioned a Jewish state as a sanctuary for Jews, yet we see that this has not fully resolved the challenges we face. Shouldn’t we consider fading into the background, adopting less Jewish identities, and merging into broader society?
David Deutsch: I strongly disagree with that notion. The belief that assimilation could prevent violence against Jews has been historically proven false. In fact, some of the worst atrocities against Jews occurred in regions where they were most assimilated. The idea that blending in could spare Jews from persecution is flawed.
Historically, countries where Jews sought refuge, such as Germany, became the sites of horrific violence against them, contrary to popular belief.
