There are mistakes that can be corrected with a clear explanation — and others that will not disappear even after 10 polished presentations. Rabbi Isaac Arama, in his commentary on the Torah portions Acharei Mot and Kedoshim, draws a sharp distinction that managers would do well to understand: people fail for two fundamentally different reasons. One stems from a “distortion of understanding” — a cognitive error. The other stems from “desire” — an internal pull rooted in character.
This distinction may sound theological, but in practice it offers one of the most useful insights into how people and organizations function.
The first type is familiar: an employee acts incorrectly because they misunderstood the goal, received conflicting instructions or misread the situation. In Arama’s terms, this is someone led astray by “illusions.” The solution here is relatively straightforward — clarify, correct, refine. Once the person understands, they adjust course.
This is why organizations invest heavily in messaging, presentations, goal-setting and procedures. The assumption is that better explanation will lead to better outcomes.
But reality often proves otherwise. Some problems persist.
That is because there is a second, more complex type of failure — one driven by desire. Not a lack of understanding, but an internal inclination. An employee who knows what is right and chooses otherwise. A manager who understands the rules but circumvents them. A culture that prioritizes results even at the expense of ethical gray areas.
Here, Arama teaches, explanation is no longer sufficient. The issue is not in the mind, but in the heart.
In management terms, this is the difference between a knowledge gap and a character gap — between a training issue and a values issue. The common mistake organizations make is treating both with the same tools.
When the problem is cognitive, communication works. When it is rooted in desire, communication is largely irrelevant.
Different tools are required: clear boundaries, effective oversight and, most importantly, a culture that shapes behavior — not just understanding.
This idea appears in classical philosophy as well. Aristotle distinguished between knowledge and habit, arguing that people act not only on what they know but on what they practice. Character is formed through repeated behavior, not a single moment of insight. Leadership, therefore, is not just about conveying knowledge but about building systems of proper habits.
This echoes Arama’s second insight: the Torah does not settle for correcting beliefs — it constructs a way of life. It creates routines, frameworks and discipline. It does not merely tell people what to think, but teaches them how to live.
For managers, this is critical. An organization that does not address habits, incentives and environment does not truly change behavior — it only creates the illusion of understanding.
Arama illustrates this distinction through the contrast between Egypt and Canaan: Egypt represents flawed perceptions, while Canaan represents corrupted behavior. In other words, some problems are intellectual, and others are moral.
In organizations, this distinction becomes most apparent during moments of stress — rapid growth, layoffs, mergers or leadership changes. At those times, the question is no longer just what people understand, but what drives them.
The market offers similar examples. The trajectory of LivePerson shows how an organization can gradually lose trust not because of a lack of knowledge, but because of patterns of behavior. A company once valued in the billions saw its worth erode significantly — not due to a single mistake, but because problematic patterns were not corrected in time.
True leadership is measured by the ability to recognize which type of failure you are facing: if the problem is cognitive, explain better; if it is rooted in desire, build better systems.
Above all, it requires the humility to understand that not every problem can be solved with another slide.
In the end, organizations do not collapse because people failed to understand. They collapse because people understood — and chose otherwise.