I was recently listening to a radio interview with someone who spoke about the pre-Rosh Hashanah seating fiasco at El Al airlines. The interviewee claimed that several years ago, a few prominent Israeli haredi rabbis were in negotiations with El Al to create seating accommodations for religious passengers. The sex segregated rows wouldn’t have access to in-flight movies, nor would they be near passengers eating treif food. El Al agreed to offer these accommodations and the rabbis made announcements to their followers that they could now book tickets in these “kosher rows.”
Apparently, the resulting demand for kosher seating was so low, that El Al decided to discontinue the offering. The punchline is that what haredi leaders want is not necessarily what the average haredi wants.
I found the discussion interesting, because it somewhat mirrored a theory I shared with my husband. My supposition is that when an average ultra orthodox man is seated next to a woman on a flight and can’t find someone willing to switch, as long as there are no other familiar haredim in the vicinity, he will be more willing to sit in his assigned seat. However, if he is on a flight with a number of other men from his community who are seated separately, he will be less likely to acquiesce to mixed seating. To sit next to a woman in front of a jury of peers, all of whom are adhering to separate seating, would be more intolerable than the act of sitting next to a woman itself.
The peer pressure to conform to halachic or chumradik standards isn’t reserved for the ultra orthodox community. For example, it’s not uncommon for some orthodox Jews to be more lax in their standards of kashrut or tznius while on vacation than at home in their communities.
For instance, while enjoying a family outing at a theme park, perhaps the purchase of a hot Super Pretzel or freshly squeezed lemonade might be an acceptable treat. However, if that same family was at the theme park with a large orthodox Jewish group, and no other Jews were taking the risk of buying a kosher pretzel heated in an unsupervised oven or lemonade made from lemons cut with a knife which might have also been used for treif foods, the family might refrain from indulging while in such company.
Similarly, there are orthodox families who regularly enjoy vacationing at waterparks, yet wouldn’t dream of swimming in a mixed crowd at a hotel Shabbaton. Such events usually arrange for separate men’s and women’s pool hours, and it’s rare to see participants swim outside of those parameters. Is it the opposition to mixed swimming, the fear of publicly violating standards of modesty in front of fellow orthodox Jews, or respect for the rules set down by the Shabbaton organizers that prevent such families from indulging in a mixed activity they would normally relish?
I am not saying that there aren’t folks who consistently hold to their halachic standards and customs even outside of their communities. I’m sure there are plenty of people who strive for such consistency and take pride in it. However, how many customs are taken on, not because of halachic considerations, but because of peer pressure?
White tablecloths are more Shabbosdik, so would you dare to host guests using a colored cloth? Long wigs are pritzudik, so would any tznius woman be seen in a wig longer than shoulder length? Smartphones are the devil’s device, so would you openly use one in full view of other community members?
However, if you weren’t having guests for Shabbos, would a purple tablecloth be your preference? If you were going to a party for work, would you bust out your long sheitel for a gathering with non-Jewish co-workers who won’t judge you? Are you a gadget geek who secretly pre-orders the latest iPhone but has a “kosher phone” for use around other orthodox Jews?
Do we do things more out of fear of our fellow man or out of fear of Hashem?
