Our Gemara on Amud Aleph debates whether Moshe’s statement in Devarim (1:17) reflects a hint of arrogance on his part:

“And the cause that is too hard for you, you shall bring to me, and I will hear it.”

Rabbi Ḥanina, and some say Rabbi Yoshiya, argues that this statement displayed a degree of presumptuousness. As a result, Moshe was later punished…

Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak objects to this critique of Moshe. He points out that the verse does not say, “And I will tell you,” which would have implied that Moshe was claiming full authority for himself. Instead, it says, “And I will hear it,” which can be understood to mean that Moshe would listen and seek guidance if he did not know the answer. According to this view, Moshe did not display arrogance, as he acknowledged that he might have to seek further knowledge and consult Hashem.

Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak’s argument seems compelling. The phrase “I will hear it” could indeed mean “I will hear guidance” rather than “I will hear the case.” If so, why does Rabbi Ḥanina see a hint of conceit in Moshe’s words?

The simplest answer is that the plain reading of the verse supports Rabbi Ḥanina’s position:

“And any matter that is too difficult for you, you shall bring to me and I will hear it.”

Although the phrase “I will hear it” is somewhat ambiguous, its most straightforward reading implies that Moshe is saying, “I will hear the case and render a ruling.” There is no explicit indication in the pasuk that Moshe intends to seek further guidance or consult Hashem. This perspective allows Rabbi Ḥanina to see Moshe’s statement as self-assured, possibly to a fault.

Yet, it is the general approach of Chazal to read biblical characters — especially tzaddikim — in a favorable light when possible. The Maharitz Chayes, in his Ma’amar on Aggadah (printed at the beginning of the Ein Yaakov), notes that Chazal often employ derash to derive something positive about a biblical figure rather than the opposite, and they look to find negative interpretations regarding evil characters. Why, then, does Rabbi Ḥanina deviate from this approach, casting Moshe’s words in a critical light?

I believe the issue lies not in the phrase “I will hear it” itself but in Moshe’s decision to exclude the sages from the process of discovery. Even if we read the verse like Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak, understanding “I will hear it” as “I will seek guidance,” Moshe still positions himself as the sole seeker of truth. He could have framed it in a more inclusive and humble manner, saying, “If it is something that I do not know, we will go and study it together.” And if he was referring to receiving Divine wisdom, he could have said, “We will hear it.”

This subtle shift from “I” to “we” is not trivial. When facing a challenge, even if one holds a leadership position, it is often beneficial — practically and emotionally — to allow others to participate in the process of problem-solving. People are more willing to contribute meaningfully when they feel included. Of course, this has to be sincere. Using the royal “we” as a superficial gesture of collaboration can backfire. For example, when a boss says, “We need to work on this,” it may be clear from tone and context that what he really means is, “YOU need to work on this.”

The difference between feeling like a partner or a subordinate is not just semantic. People can sense authenticity in these interactions. If you genuinely believe that you alone are the problem-solver, the one who “gets things done,” you are missing an essential truth. A truly humble person sees the process as we, not I. Often, the belief that it’s all on you and that you alone accomplish everything is an illusion — and an overrated one at that.