In a fascinating responsum that we will review this week and next, Hatam Sofer (Part 6; Likutim, no. 61) comments on several issues that still have contemporary import. The questioner wanted to re-publish Ramban’s commentary on the Torah without the text of the Torah; he also wanted to include Hatam Sofer’s own comments on Ramban from a weekly class that the rabbi taught. Hatam Sofer responded negatively on both counts, seeing it as more proper and greater respect to Ramban to have his words be an adjunct to the word of God, rather than a text of their own. In addition, on a more technical level, he felt that it was a mistake to print Ramban’s commentary without the Targum and Rashi, since those texts (he probably should have included Ibn Ezra) are necessary for a proper understanding of Ramban’s words themselves.

We can see this vividly nowadays by comparing the experience of studying Ramban in the original Chavel edition with studying the same text in the Torat Hayyim edition of the Torah. Despite the deficiencies in the original Chavel edition that Hatam Sofer’s words point out, it was a tremendous advance in the accessibility of Ramban’s ideas over the ordinary Mikraot Gedolot that was available until then. Nonetheless, when printed alongside has Rashi, Ibn Ezra, and Targum in the more recent Torat Hayyim edition of the Torah, the commentary and printing is even more productive and useful.

Moving away from specific issues, Hatam Sofer resisted re-printing Ramban in general, since the text was available to all those who would actually study it. Without denying Ramban’s importance, in other words, Hatam Sofer was pointing out that it was futile to re-publish the commentary, since there was no market of students of the work who did not already have it available to them. His assumption that it is only worth printing a sefer if people will actually read it is worth considering. In pure economic terms, it seems mistaken; the criterion for publishing should be whether there are enough people willing to buy the sefer, regardless of whether they will actually read it (as publishers of scientific bestsellers such as Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time will happily point out).

Hatam Sofer, however, assumes that there is a cost to printing sefarim, a cost that is only justified by an actual readership for the work to be printed. Nowadays, when publishing houses solicit donations to cover the costs of printing sefarim, that calculus is even more important. I suspect that many people who contribute to such printings do so out of funds they consider charity funds; certainly there is room for people to consider using their ma`aser kesafim money (a tenth of their income they set aside for charitable purposes) for supporting a wide range of positive Jewish endeavors. If that list includes printing sefarim, however, Hatam Sofer’s concern that they be sefarim that will actually be read seems like an important consideration. Otherwise, the money is quite probably better donated elsewhere.

Even under his rules, however, there are at least two valid reasons to reprint a work. Reduced availability is a first acceptable reason; if there are not enough copies for the work’s legitimate readership, it is worth re-printing. That justifies frequently reprinting the standard works of Jewish study, since there are always new generations reaching the age where they need to own and use such works.

Second, and this can be inferred from Hatam Sofer’s complaint about lack of readership, if a new printing can legitimately claim to expand the readership of a traditional work, it would also seem to be justified (since Hatam Sofer was only bothered by printing works that are already left unread). New editions that make works more accessible would qualify under this rubric, such as the various Mossad haRav Kook printings of rishonim, perhaps most relevantly to our current conversation, the Chavel edition of Ramban’s commentary on the Torah. It seems undeniable that the new printings of each of those texts widened their readership and therefore would be justified in Hatam Sofer’s view.

In refusing to allow the printing of his comments on Ramban, Hatam Sofer makes two interesting points. First, he notes that he would have to do a great amount of work to take his oral comments and fully verify them to the extent that they would be printable. This is an important distinction— in the course of an oral discussion, teachers of Torah feel free to float ideas that they might not have fully verified or tracked down in all the relevant sources. When it came to printing those ideas, however, at least Hatam Sofer felt an added responsibility to have nailed down his views more fully. With the invention of the Internet, the distinction between oral and written has been given a new dimension—even written material can be widely circulated with a minimum of effort, although in a less formal manner than actual book publishing. Internet authors, or purveyors of e-mail shiurim, need to consider the level of seriousness with which readers will take their ideas and, concomitantly, the level of thought they need to put into those writings before circulating them.

Hatam Sofer also casually notes that he has a notebook of novel ideas that occurred to him each year as he reviewed that week’s Torah portion, fulfilling his obligation of shenayim mikra ve-ehad Targum. While he was not ready to print these novellae, we should note how seriously he took the obligation— he did not simply read his way through these required texts, nor even just think about them as he studied. He, rather, undertook the time and expense of recording (for himself, apparently, since he wasn’t going to print them) his thoughts on that week’s sedra. Shabbat Shalom.