One of the debated points in the realm of to’elet—“purposeful” or constructive speech—is the permissibility of informing one’s rabbi or teacher of issues with a congregant or student so that the authority figure can rebuke or correct the individual. The Chafetz Chaim permits this only when attempting to directly address that guilty party is impossible or has proven unsuccessful. Yet some later scholars consider it self-evident that license would be granted even to one who could successfully issue rebuke himself, if the authority figure could do so more effectively or more expeditiously. Further, the Chafetz Chaim acknowledges that there are habits and tendencies that are not likely to change, and are harmful to others, and if that appears to be the case speaking to the subject first may not be productive or necessary.

That framework—necessity, likelihood of effectiveness, the risk of harm—becomes especially charged in education, where the very process is formative. Here the question is not only whether the speech is technically permissible, but what it trains the speaker to become.

Teacher’s Meetings and Lashon Hara Concerns

Teacher's meetings, in which the performance and behavior of students are discussed in front of a gathering of teachers, raise questions of lashon hara, and the presumption of their permissibility stands on the premise that the conversation in this context and under these circumstances accomplishes a constructive purpose.

The Talmud (Pesachim 113b, and codified by the Chafetz Chaim , Hil. Lashon Hara, Klal 4:5) permits one who has witnessed misbehavior to inform the rebbe of that individual. Presumably, it is the rebbe specifically who is informed, because of the convergence of two factors: the rebbe is best positioned to correct the behavior of the wayward individual; and the rebbe, as a God-fearing Jew, will adhere to the demands of confidentiality and discretion(see Be’er Mayim Chaim, ibid, 28, and Siach HaTamar).

Accordingly, these two elements are prerequisites for discussions of students that take place at teacher’s meetings: first, that the participants are all committed, in intent and in deed, to the well-being and positive development of the students under discussion, and second, that they will maintain the standard of absolute discretion, keeping the contents of the conversation limited only to those serving in that capacity.

Within that framework, it is necessary that the specific discussion itself be of a constructive nature. The assessment of to’elet is always complex, and draws upon different rationales: lo ta’amod al dam re’akha, which assumes a danger is present, creating a clear responsibility on those who are able to do so to act to avert the danger; as well as the assumption that discussions with constructive motivations do not fall under the heading of lashon hara.

The challenge of precise parameters is reflected in the ruling cited in the name of R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv  (Bakesh Shalom, p. 27) that a teacher should only remain in the room if there is some toelet “at that point or later”. As to be expected, there is some disagreement as to what would constitute such purpose.

Recognizing this difficulty, certain constructive purposes of meetings that have been appreciated by poskim are noted here. It is incumbent upon the administrators and teachers gathered to focus on maximizing these purposes. To the extent any potential participant cannot play a constructive role of any sort in any given discussion, it would be proper to leave the meeting. 

Certain advantages apply when several teachers gather who all teach the same student, among them:

Discussing the student with other teachers may bring an enhanced perspective, as they behave or perform differently in different contexts. There may be aspects of the student’s background or challenges that one teacher may be more aware of than another.  It may emerge that the student is not completely compatible with one teacher but is more so with others.

R. Moshe Kaufman, author of the widely cited commentary on the Chafetz Chaim, Netivot Chaim (Zera Chaim, Kuntres Shalom Bonayikh, pp. 450-451), is of the opinion that only teachers who teach that student, or have in the past taught that student, should be present for discussions regarding the student.

In addition to the concern of non-constructiveness, Siach HaTamar (pp 220-221) feels there is a genuine risk in other teachers remaining present, in that they may teach this student in future years, and may form a prejudice based on what they hear at the earlier meeting. It is possible the student may grow and improve in the interim and yet may suffer from the bias formed against them in this situation. (See also Shut LeChafetz BaChaim, I, 14).

R. Kaufman does acknowledges a number of exceptions that he allows may justify other teachers being present: perhaps there is a risk that a certain student may be a bad influence on a wider student population, extending to other classes; or perhaps there are specific sensitivities or needs a student may have, that even teachers who do not formally have the student, but may experience some interaction, should be aware of. Further, there is sometimes value to having a more comprehensive picture of the challenges facing the school as a whole, although this is usually more relevant to administrators.

Nonetheless, there is a widespread practice of having all teachers present at such discussions, one that has been employed by great and God-fearing scholars as well (as Siach HaTamar concedes). The rationale for this is understood to be teshuah b’rov yoetz (Mishlei11:14 and 24:6), the assumption that a multitude of committed and experienced professionals, conferring together, will produce guidance that is of a superior quality (see Dirshu Chafetz Chaim, p. 705).

It is crucial that under all circumstances the proceedings remain confidential; given that this is the understanding of such meetings, the number of attendees is irrelevant and does not create a license of “apei tlasa” to share information with outsiders (see Shut LeChafetz BaChaim, I, 20).

While the above contains many elements that are subjective in nature and some that are subject to dispute, the most foundational requirement of toelet, as noted by the Chazon Ish, is good faith intent toward constructive purpose. It is of utmost importance that all attendees at these meetings maintain a constant attitude of love for the students, a belief in their ability to grow and progress, and a sincere effort to actualize the potential constructive purposes these meetings can provide.

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein and the “Training Effect” (1966)

In an oft-quoted responsum (Resp. Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah, II, 103) from 1966, R. Moshe Feinstein—often described as the most prominent American rabbinic authority of the 20th century—recommends against teachers asking children to identify a student who has behaved improperly. His concern is not merely that this might produce incidental lashon hara, but that it habituates children to it in the very environment designed to cultivate moral sensitivity.

He acknowledges a Talmudic source (Bava Batra 21a) that an individual can report on a student to his teacher, but maintains that this is only true if the reporter does so on his own initiative. For a teacher to instruct a student to do so is a very different situation. Adults who engage in such reporting often do so based on ulterior motivations; a child who is pressured to inform will be even less likely to be purely motivated.

The Backlash—and Rabbi Feinstein’s Reply

Despite the prominence of the author, Rabbi Feinstein's ruling was very controversial. Among the concerns expressed were the issues of necessary purposeful speech. Is it not possible, his detractors countered, that such an attitude may result in bad behavior going unpunished? In a subsequent responsum (Resp. Iggerot Moshe, YD VIII, 30), Rabbi Feinstein stood his ground. Responding to Rabbi Meir Munk, he argued that even if indeed this would happen, it is unclear that this is a greater concern than training children in a mindset of lashon hara.

Reading Feinstein Broadly… or Narrowly

Rabbi Yechiel Michel Stern (Imrei Yaakov, YD, Hilkhot Melamdim 245:10, Chelek HaBiurim) interpreted Rabbi Feinstein's ruling to apply regardless of the circumstances, and argued on the assumption that the children will not be honorably motivated. Further, he maintained that even if there is a mixture of motivation, it would still seem necessary for the wellbeing of others.

The debate continued into the rabbinical journals. In one such journal (Kovetz Sha'arei Hora'ah, vol V, 5765 pp. 154-156), the author takes issue with Rabbi Feinstein's assumption that motivation will differ profoundly in correlation with whether one is coming forward on their own or being pressured to do so. He further asserts that the entire mission of the educator is to teach the difference between right and wrong, and that conveying a nuanced message shouldn't be impossible in this situation. He concludes with a distinction between a situation in which the student under discussion is simply underperforming or otherwise harming only himself, and one in which the student is impacting upon others, and thus presumably must be stopped even at the expense of extracting the information from other students.

In another journal, R. Chaim Yehudah Cohen (Kol Torah vol. LIV, pp. 59-61) defends Rabbi Feinstein’s ruling, stressing that Rabbi Feinstein is focused not on incidental adult behavior but on educational training and habituation. It is for this reason that his distinction between self-motivation and external pressure from the teacher is significant. He concludes that Rabbi Feinstein's approach is an important one to consider practically. Perhaps our current issues with lashon hara would be less severe, he suggests, if more such sensitivity were incorporated into the educational process.

Contemporary Recalibrations: Age and Nuance

More recently, R. Asher Weiss (Minchat Asher al HaTorah, Lev. , 41:4) took issue with that broad assessment and asserted that Rabbi Feinstein’s recommendation was only appropriate for very young children, who are completely incapable of distinguishing between differing situations. For older children, he argues, it is equally beneficial for them to learn the value of benefiting society as a whole by protecting its interests from malefactors. Similarly, R. Moshe Shternbuch (Responsa Teshuvot VeHanhagot, I, 839) expresses the view that it should be possible to extract necessary information while simultaneously conveying the message of the general severity of lashon hara.

What Is Lashon Hara About—Character or Damage?

This entire debate appears to revolve around the fundamental question of the nature of the lashon hara prohibition. Focusing on the issue as one of character may lead to an emphasis on the educational message and its impact on the cultivation of a personality sensitive to its core ethos. Alternatively, directing attention to lashon hara as a practical matter, defined as inflicting damage upon others, may lead to a more detail-oriented perspective. In that vein, "purposeful" speech that is beneficial only as an enhancement, rather than as a protective necessity, may be less of a priority than the broader educational message. However, negative speech that is needed to prevent harm to others would continue to be necessary even when the information must be solicited by the teacher—and presumably Rabbi Feinstein would agree.

A Parallel Case: Permissible “Untruths” and Children

Jewish law contains other examples where nuanced and complex principles are adjusted when children are involved. The Talmud (Sukkah 46b) warns that one should not speak falsely to a child, for fear of teaching him dishonesty. The question is self-evident: isn't it prohibited to lie to anyone, adults included? As many explain, there are circumstances when it is permissible to speak falsely—for example, in the preservation of harmony, as indicated in Yevamot 65b. However, even in such circumstances, if children are involved, a different policy is indicated; otherwise, the child will simply come away with the lesson that it is acceptable to lie.

The renowned business ethicist Rabbi Dr. Aaron Levine illustrated this distinction with an example. Often, one receives phone calls that he doesn't have the time—or the inclination—to take. Not wishing to offend the caller, he asks his wife to say that he is not home. Under the harmony principle, that is acceptable. What may not be acceptable is instructing his five-year-old son to say the same thing. Too young to appreciate the circumstances, the child will only see it as a lie. In both this case and the lashon hara question, an assessment must be made as to the developmental stage of the child, whether he is able to appreciate nuance and distinction, or whether it is a higher priority to focus on the core value in an uncomplicated way.

Should We Teach Lashon Hara to Children at All?

Interestingly, the inverse consideration was raised by R. Shamai Gross, a rabbinical court judge of the Belzer Chasidim. In his responsa (Responsa Shevet HaKehati, VI, 469), he discusses whether the notion of lashon hara should be taught to children at all. Perhaps, he suggests, their educational development will be inhibited if they are taught that there are things they cannot say. Yet—drawing on Talmudic support—he reiterates the priority of careful instruction of this value at the earliest stage of a child’s cognitive development. In other words: silence is not the solution; careful education is.

Teaching Through Someone Else’s Story

Another educational issue arises when a teacher wishes to inspire—or perhaps warn—by invoking the story of another, whose past or present is less than noble. On the one hand, the educationally beneficial remark may nonetheless harm the subject’s reputation; if lashon hara is defined as harming another through speech, the inspirational impact may not be sufficient justification. If, however, malicious intent is the focus, it might be argued that such intent is absent here.

Complicating the matter further: halakhic texts generally assume that revealing that someone is a repentant transgressor is lashon hara. But in modern usage, ba’al teshuvah often identifies one who came to religious observance despite not being raised observant. In either connotation, identifying someone as a ba’al teshuvah can be meant to credit and inspire at least as much as to derogate. As such, some contemporary authorities assume the operative issue is the subject’s willingness to be identified in that manner. The same label can be either disclosure or praise; the difference may hinge on consent, context, and the social meaning in a given community.

Reporting as Love, Not Only Discipline

To return to the issue of informing a teacher or a parent so that they can correct a child’s behavior: one might come away with the impression that disciplining is the only justifiable reason to pass on negative information to an authority figure. R. Moshe Kaufman, in his commentary to the Chafetz Chaim (Zera Chaim, I, 4:11), argues strongly that this is not the case.

When a parent asks about the welfare or activities of a child—even if he is not in a position to influence that child’s behavior—the question is legitimate as an expression of love. This concern is what it means to be a parent: an involved relative who is, by definition, affected by the welfare of the child. By extension, this can apply to anyone in a comparable position, including a teacher striving to maintain a relationship with a student. R. Kaufman acknowledges that this logic can be misused, and offered as a pretext by one merely curious and intrusive; nonetheless, he felt the principle is not only true but important enough to emphasize in his work.

Conclusion

The debate over whether teachers should ask students to identify misbehaving classmates reveals far more than a narrow halakhic disagreement. At its heart lies a profound tension between two legitimate educational goals: protecting the community from harm and cultivating ethical character in our children.

Rabbi Feinstein's concern remains as relevant today as it was in 1966. In an age of social media callouts and public shaming, the question of what habits we instill in young people about speech carries enormous weight. Are we training them to see reporting as a tool for justice—or as a normalized behavior detached from its moral gravity?

Yet his critics raise an equally compelling point. Children must also learn that silence in the face of wrongdoing has consequences, that protecting others sometimes requires speaking up. The goal of education, after all, is not to produce adults paralyzed by ethical complexity, but ones capable of navigating it.

Perhaps the resolution lies in recognizing that both concerns are valid, and that the answer depends heavily on context—the age and maturity of the children involved, the severity of the behavior in question, and the skill of the educator in conveying nuance. What emerges clearly from this discussion is that the laws of speech are not merely technical rules to be followed, but reflections of the kind of people we aspire to be and to raise. The classroom is not only where values are taught, it is where they are lived.