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I’m a name, not a number. 

Nonetheless, endless numerical metrics have been used throughout my life to quantify my worth: SAT. GPA. IQ. AP. FICO. Salary. Tax bracket. Age. Weight. BMI.  Numbers are dehumanizing. They paint in broad strokes, revealing little if anything of the humans they purport to define. Numbers know nothing of love, meaning, humanity, our souls... So why do we rely on them as much as we do? What purpose do they serve?

Obviously, numbers help us to make sense of our world, to feel a sense of mastery over it. We know that there is strength in numbers and that it’s always best to be number one. We know that larger stockpiles of weapons make for a greater sense of security, that lots of zeros at the end of a bank account can decrease instability, even if they can’t buy me love. Numbers can reassure us, providing a buffer between ourselves and all the uncertainties of human existence.

Perhaps this explains why the book of Numbers kicks off, in B’midbar, with an injunction to count the men of each tribe able to bear arms and to quantify the total population. For what purpose? Was it, as Rashi suggested, to show God’s love for each individual member of his people, so that no one would feel forgotten or unseen? Was it to remind the Israelites of their military potential, to reassure them that they had the manpower needed to take and then defend the Promised Land? Was it to show the world what a great nation Israel had become, despite the oppression of the Egyptians? How did these numbers shape the Israelites’ perception of themselves as a newly liberated people? Do these impressive numbers tell us anything of the individuals they represented?

Behind the numbers, there are faces, there are names. There are mothers, sons, daughters, fathers... There are aspirations, desires, fears, love stories, and struggles that we can only imagine from our place in modernity. I would love to believe, as Rashi did, that God sees and loves every soul, that the numbers enhance us, instead of reducing us to statistics. In a world of over 8 billion people, it is challenging to conceive of each number as a fully fleshed human, priceless and unique, but knowing that we are surrounded by humans rather than figures can ultimately allow us to feel less objectivized ourselves. Numbers can tell a story, but they represent infinite human possibilities and realities that far surpass the digits.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rebecca Abbate