Our Gemara on Amud Beis discusses the principle that a Jewish court must be structured to avoid gridlock, which is why it always has an odd number of judges. This principle is used to determine the number of judges in various courts. For example, when the Gemara finds scriptural support for a capital court to consist of at least 22 judges, it is automatically assumed that the court must have 23 judges to prevent a tie.

The Oholei Yitschok raises an interesting question: Why must the tie-breaking judge be included from the outset, bringing the total to 23? Would it not be sufficient to add a judge only if there is a tie? After all, even with 22 judges, a majority verdict could be reached, such as in a 12-10 vote. In fact, the Gemara (29a) allows for the addition of a judge in the rare case where one of the 23 judges says, “I don’t know,” and the remaining 22 judges are split 11-11.

The Oholei Yitschok answers that it is exceedingly rare for a judge to declare uncertainty, and for such an infrequent scenario, the sages permitted the post facto addition of a judge. However, with an even-numbered court of 22, the possibility of a tie (11-11) is much more plausible, making it logical for the Torah to require an odd number of judges from the outset. One might object that a perfect 11-11 split should also be rare, as the votes could easily fall into larger margins like 12-10 or 14-8. Nonetheless, the Oholei Yitschok seems to maintain that an even vote is more probable than a judge being unsure, which is noteworthy because, in theory, both situations should be relatively rare. We might explain this by noting that the drive for resolution, coupled with the scholarly nature of the judges, makes an “I don’t know” response even less likely than a tie.

I would like to suggest a different answer. The rabbis were especially vigilant to ensure that junior judges not feel intimidated into conforming to the opinions of senior judges. This is why the younger judges are required to present their arguments first during deliberations. If a tied court with an even number of judges were to call in an additional judge after deliberations are complete, this newly added judge would face significant pressure. He would have to quickly catch up on the case and render a decisive, tie-breaking vote. If he were genuinely undecided, he might be embarrassed to admit it, especially since his entire role is to break the tie. This embarrassment could pressure him into issuing a ruling without sufficient internal clarity. To avoid this psychological and procedural problem, the court is established with an odd number of judges from the beginning.

But in a scenario where one of the 23 judges declares, “I don’t know,” and a tie-breaking judge must be added, the dynamics are different. Since one of the original judges already admitted uncertainty, the newly added judge is less likely to feel isolated or ashamed if he also finds himself unsure. He would have “company” in his uncertainty, reducing the social pressure to issue a decisive ruling when he was not convinced.

This discussion reveals interesting insights into the psychology and group dynamics of judicial decision-making. Even the great and wise judges of the Sanhedrin are susceptible to social pressures and cognitive biases. The safeguards established by Chazal recognize these human tendencies, ensuring a process that promotes fairness, independence, and thoughtful deliberation.