The Benefits of A Good Fight
When something bothers you, you probably handle it one of two ways: the bad way, or the bad way. The Torah gave us a third way: respect and communication, together.
When something bothers you, you probably handle it one of two ways: the bad way, or the bad way.
Picture a Friday night table in Los Angeles. His parents are over. The rice is perfect, the tahdig is crisp, and the air between husband and wife is so thick you could slice it with the challah knife.
For three months he has come home after the kids are asleep. She has not said a word about it. Not one.
Then, as the soup is served, she smiles and says, “So nice of you to join us this week.”
Three months of saying nothing. Then one line that lands like a slap, in front of his parents. She managed to try both bad ways in a single evening.
Let’s meet them.
Meet the Broomer
The Broomer keeps the peace by saying nothing.
“Everything’s fine. Let’s hang out.”
Something hurt, but bringing it up feels like making trouble. So the hurt goes under the rug. Then the next one. And the next. The rug starts to look like a hill, and everyone in the house is walking around it.
Persians have a word for this skill: ta’arof. We are world champions at smiling and saying the opposite of what we mean.
The problem is that the pile under the rug does not shrink. It grows until it blows up.
The Torah has a chilling case study. King David’s son Amnon commits a terrible crime against his half-sister Tamar. Her full brother, Avshalom, finds out. Here is how he responds:
Not a word. The very next verse begins:
Avshalom throws a sheep-shearing party, invites all the king’s sons, and has his men kill Amnon.
Two years under the rug. Then the explosion.
Most Broomers never get anywhere near Avshalom. But the pattern is the same at every size: what you do not say does not go away. It waits.
Meet the Bulldozer
The Bulldozer has the opposite problem. He says it, straight, right now, and leaves wreckage behind.
“I’m just being honest. He has to learn his lesson.”
Sometimes the Bulldozer is even right about the issue. But it does not matter. When you shame someone, raise your voice, or do it in front of an audience, the other person stops hearing your point and starts defending himself.
The message is lost in the delivery.
The story each one tells
Here is what makes both of them so hard to fix: each one has a story that makes the habit sound like a virtue.
- The Broomer says, “I’m keeping the shalom.”
- The Bulldozer says, “I’m teaching him.”
Peace and honesty are both Jewish values. That is exactly why these excuses work so well. We get to feel righteous while the relationship gets worse.
But the Broomer’s peace is fake: calm on top, a growing pile underneath. And the Bulldozer’s lesson never lands. Nobody learns anything from a person who just humiliated them.
Two things every conversation needs: respect and communication
Picture two dials.
- Respect: Do I treat the other person with dignity while I talk to them?
- Communication: Do I actually tell them what is bothering me?
The Broomer has respect without communication. Very polite, says nothing.
The Bulldozer has communication without respect. Says everything, cares nothing about how it lands.
Neither one gets anywhere.
The only thing that works is turning both dials up at once: say the hard thing, and say it with respect. That is respectful communication, and it is what this whole article is about.
The Torah wrote this more than 3,000 years ago
All of this is packed into one verse in Parshat Kedoshim:
Three clauses. Read them in order.
1. Lo tisna et achicha bilvavecha, “do not hate your brother in your heart.” This one rules out the Broomer. The Torah does not let you file the hurt away and smile. The Ramban explains why speaking up is better than silent hatred:
Maybe you misread the situation. Maybe he had no idea. Either way, you will never find out from under the rug.
2. Hocheach tochiach, “you shall surely rebuke.” Say it. Communication is a mitzvah.
3. V’lo tisa alav chet, “and do not bear a sin because of him.” This one rules out the Bulldozer. Rashi explains what the sin is:
So even while you are doing the mitzvah of speaking up, you can turn it into a sin by how you do it.
One verse. The Broomer is out at the beginning, the Bulldozer is out at the end, and respectful communication sits right in the middle.
The Rambam’s method
The Rambam turns this verse into a step-by-step method in Hilchot De’ot, chapter 6. First, say it, and look which verse he uses as his example of what not to do:
In the middle of that law, the Rambam quotes Avshalom. The Broomer is his example of what to avoid.
Then, how to say it:
And finally, protect his dignity:
Put together, the method is:
- Tell the person what hurt you. Do not hint. Do not hope they figure it out.
- Say it privately. Between the two of you.
- Say it gently. Calmly, with a soft voice.
- Let them save face. Your goal is to fix the problem. Winning is beside the point.
King Solomon summed up the tone in three Hebrew words:
What it looks like in real life: Reuven and Gad
The Torah also shows us a hard conversation done right.
The Jewish people are camped on the east bank of the Jordan, about to enter the Land of Israel. The tribes of Reuven and Gad have huge herds, and the land on this side of the river is perfect grazing land. So they go to Moshe with a request:
Notice what they did not do. They did not quietly settle on the east bank and hope nobody noticed. They brought it up, to Moshe’s face.
High stakes? The whole nation is about to go to war. Moshe answers with one sharp question:
He goes on to compare them to the spies, whose report cost a whole generation forty years in the desert. That is about as heated as it gets.
Here is where most of us would pick a bad way. Storm off and sulk. Or shout back. Reuven and Gad do neither:
They come closer. Then they answer Moshe’s real concern. They will build homes for their families, then march at the front of the army, and not go home until every other tribe has its land (Bamidbar 32:16–18).
Moshe accepts, with one correction. They had said “sheepfolds for our flocks” before “towns for our children.” Rashi points out the order:
Their answer to the correction? No defensiveness at all:
Rashi (Bamidbar 32:24) adds a detail I love. Moshe only asked them to stay until the land was conquered. They promised more: to stay until it was also divided. That added seven more years away from home, beyond what Moshe asked. And Rashi notes: vechen asu, they did exactly that.
Both sides spoke their minds. Both sides were respected. And the deal that came out was better than either opening position.
The modern name for it
In 2002, four authors (Kerry Patterson, Joseph Grenny, Ron McMillan and Al Switzler) wrote a book that became a fixture in boardrooms and marriage counseling offices: Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When Stakes Are High.
They gave our two bad ways their own names: silence and violence. Silence is the Broomer: avoiding, hinting, sarcasm, changing the subject. Violence is the Bulldozer: attacking, labeling, raising your voice, trying to win.
Their answer is to “make it safe,” which comes down to mutual respect and mutual purpose. The other person has to feel that you respect them and that you want the same good outcome. Sound familiar? The Rambam said the same thing: privately, gently, for his good.
The book also has a beautiful image for what happens when it works: the pool of shared meaning. Each person pours their facts, feelings and concerns into one shared pool. The bigger the pool, the better the decision you make together.
The Broomer keeps his pitcher full. The Bulldozer spills it on the floor. Only respectful communication fills the pool.
Which way do you tilt?
Most of us are not the extremes. We are not Avshalom, and we do not flip tables. But we tilt.
And here is the interesting part: we tilt differently with different people. Ask yourself honestly:
- With my spouse, am I a Broomer or a Bulldozer?
- With my parents?
- With my business partners or employees?
- With my kids?
Plenty of people are Bulldozers at the office and Broomers at home. Or patient with clients and short with their kids. The tilt tells you where to work.
Your practice this week
Pick one issue that is still under the rug. Just one.
Then bring it up with the person, respectfully:
- Pick the place. Private. Never in front of the family, the office, or the group chat.
- Start with facts. “You’ve come home after the kids are asleep most nights this month.” Facts are hard to argue with.
- Say how it lands on you. “I’ve started to feel like I’m doing this alone.”
- Ask for their side. “Am I missing something?” And mean it.
- Keep your voice soft. Ma’aneh rach. If you feel your pulse climbing, slow down.
A balance before you march off with a list of grievances. The Talmud teaches:
Some issues are small, and the best move is to truly let them go. That is fine. Just be honest with yourself about whether you let it go, or swept it under the rug.
So, can you have a good fight?
A good fight has two parts: both people say what they need to say, and both people walk away with their dignity.
Respect without communication is a rug. Communication without respect is a bulldozer.
Respect and communication together make a good fight. And a good fight is how you keep the relationship.
So tell me: which way do you tilt?
