This post continues the discussion we began in “Bereshit: The Binary Universe I” and continued in “The Binary Universe II: Angels as Microprocessors” and “Binary Universe III: Two Camps of Angels.”

Introduction

The beginning of the Torah portion of Vayishlach presents us with an intriguing linguistic and philosophical puzzle when Jacob sends מַלְאָכִים (malakhim) to his brother Esau. The deliberate ambiguity in the term מַלְאָךְ (malakh)—which can denote either human or divine messengers—provides a unique lens through which to examine questions of consciousness, agency, and identity that have become increasingly relevant in our age of artificial intelligence and advanced robotics.

The Biblical Context

In the beginning of the Torah portion of Vayishlach, Jacob sends messengers (angels, according to Rashi) to his brother Esau:

Jacob sent messengers before him to Esau his brother, to the land of Seir, the field of Edom. He commanded them, saying: “Thus shall you say to my lord Esau: ‘Thus says your servant Jacob: I have sojourned with Laban and remained until now. I have acquired oxen and donkeys, flocks, male and female servants; and I am sending this message to my lord, that I may find favor in your eyes.’” The messengers returned to Jacob, saying: “We came to your brother, to Esau, and indeed he is coming to meet you, and four hundred men are with him.” (Genesis 32:4–7)

This seemingly straightforward narrative sparked a centuries-long debate among biblical commentators. The word מַלְאָכִים carries a dual meaning that has profound implications for our understanding of both the text and broader philosophical questions about the nature of consciousness and agency.

Angel-transistor Metaphor

In light of our angel-transistor metaphor, this narrative can be seen as another instance of signal transmission between different “nodes” or “processors” in a larger spiritual-electronic system.

Signal Initiation (Jacob’s Command):

Allegorically speaking, Jacob, acting as a controlling “processor” or “signal source,” dispatches messengers—angels—to convey a “message” to Esau’s domain. In electronics, this is akin to sending a signal from one stage of a circuit to another subsystem. The angels here are like transistors functioning in a communication channel or interface circuit. They take Jacob’s instructions (the input signal) and relay them faithfully to Esau.

Transmission Medium and Protocol:

The angels, as transistors, do not originate the message; rather, they shape and transmit it. They are the active components in a communication link. Just as a transistor might take a weak input and pass along a properly modulated output to the next stage, these angels carry Jacob’s diplomatic message—his identity, wealth, and intentions—to Esau. They ensure that the “signal” or information leaves Jacob’s “circuit” correctly and arrives intact at the receiving end.

Receiving an Output Signal (Angels’ Return):

When the angels return, they bring back a “status report”—Esau is coming with four hundred men. This is like a signal returning from the output node indicating the load or the environment’s response. In electronics, you might think of this as reading a feedback line, a return signal that informs the initial processor of the conditions ahead (e.g., detecting a high load on the output line or a large current draw).

Adapting to the New Conditions:

Just as an electronic system must adjust its parameters (e.g., increase gain, shift levels, or choose a different transmission line) when it encounters unexpected feedback, Jacob must now adapt his strategy upon receiving the angels’ report. The angels’ role resembles a transistor stage with sensing capabilities—they have probed the “line” toward Esau and returned with data, enabling Jacob’s “controller” function to respond accordingly.

Two-Way Communication and Multiple Stages:

This scenario further emphasizes that angels-transistors are not one-directional. They do not merely push signals forward; they can also carry return signals, akin to a handshaking protocol in digital electronics, where signals are exchanged back and forth to confirm readiness, data availability, or load conditions. Jacob’s initial output (his peaceful message) was met with a potentially threatening “input” from Esau’s direction—four hundred men approaching. The angels-transistors communicated these conditions, allowing Jacob to recalibrate his “circuit” for what lies ahead.

In short, the angels here are like an interface stage in an electronic system, managing and relaying signals between two different domains (Jacob’s camp and Esau’s approaching force). They ensure signal integrity, deliver feedback, and help the “master controller” (Jacob) understand and adapt to the dynamic load or environment on the “output line.”

The above metaphoric parallel is in line with the similar interpretations given in “The Binary Universe II: Angels as Microprocessors” and “Binary Universe III: Two Camps of Angels.” But there is something far more interesting in this story.

Angels, AI, Robots, and Cyborgs

Let us zoom in on the first verse of the above-quoted narrative:

Jacob sent messengers before him to Esau his brother, to the land of Seir, the field of Edom. (Genesis 32:4)

The Midrash Rabba takes the position that the malakhim were angels:

And Jacob sent malakhim (messengers) ahead of him…’ – [this means] actual angels. (Midrash Bereshit Rabbah 75:4)

Following this midrashic tradition, Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, 11th century) interprets the word “מַלְאָכִים” (malakhim) as actual angels. He uses the phrase “מלאכים ממש” (“actual angels”) to emphasize this point (see Rashi on Genesis 32:4). Ramban (Nachmanides, 13th century) follows the same approach that these were indeed angels, accepting the more literal meaning of malakhim as divine emissaries rather than human messengers. This interpretation was later adapted in Ḥasidic literature.

However, Ibn Ezra (12th century) often adheres to a more peshat (literal) approach and in this case interprets malakhim as human messengers sent by Jacob to Esau. Similarly, Rashbam (Rabbi Shmuel ben Meir, 12th century) and Bekhor Shor (12th century) also lean toward the plain meaning of the text and understands malakhim here as human emissaries rather than supernatural beings.

The reason for these different interpretations lies in the fact that the word “מַלְאָכִים” (malakhim) means “messengers,” which could be either human or divine messengers, depending on the context. In numerous places throughout Tanach, the word “מַלְאָךְ” (malakh) refers clearly to human messengers (e.g., I Samuel 11:3; II Samuel 2:5; I Kings 19:2). Thus, the semantic basis for interpreting Jacob’s messengers as human is rooted in the general biblical usage of the term. Other commentators, such as Rashi and Ramban, base there interpretation on a strong midrashic tradition for understanding the messengers in this narrative as angels.

Who were they—human messengers or angels? The Hebrew term “מַלְאָךְ” (malakh) already carries a built-in ambiguity: it can refer to both human envoys and angelic beings—wholly different orders of existence. On the surface level, this ambiguity may reflect the simple fact that the same word was employed for any “messenger,” whether mortal or divine. However, if we allow ourselves to project forward into a future scenario, we can imagine a similar linguistic and conceptual ambiguity emerging in a world populated by humanoid robots and artificial intelligences that are virtually indistinguishable from biological humans.

Bridging Worlds, Both Then and Now

In classical Jewish thought, angels serve as intermediaries between worlds: they channel divine will into the human sphere, bridging the infinite and the finite. Human messengers, on the other hand, serve as intermediaries between people, carrying information or instructions from one individual or community to another. The word “מַלְאָךְ” (malakh) unites both these roles under one linguistic umbrella, suggesting that at some fundamental level, the function of a “messenger” is more important than its ontological form. Whether composed of flesh or composed of pure spiritual energy, what makes a malakh is its function—conveying and implementing the directive of a sender.

In our foreseeable future, as robotic agents become ever more sophisticated, we too may blur such distinctions. A physical humanoid robot could be a “messenger” in the most literal sense: receiving a directive (say, from a human or another AI) and executing it faithfully. At this point, the question becomes: Does the essence of “personhood” or “being” hinge on the material—silicone or proteins—or is it defined by something else—function, intelligence, or capability?

From Angel to Algorithm:

Classical angels are often described as lacking free will. They perform their designated tasks with perfect fidelity, like a perfectly reliable algorithm. By contrast, humans are prized for their moral agency, their ability to choose and err. A human messenger can misunderstand orders, negotiate, or even refuse. An angelic messenger cannot. In a world with AI-driven humanoid robots, and AI-based agents we might have beings that look human and act efficiently and flawlessly like angels, yet lack independent moral agency. Their role as “messengers” would be more akin to angels than to human beings.

The Ambiguity as a Reflection of Roles Rather Than Essence:

The Torah’s choice to use the same term for human and angelic messengers might be tapping into a deeper truth. Throughout history, we’ve often defined beings by their roles. The role of a messenger is defined by whom they serve and what instructions they carry. In the future, the line between “human” and “angel” could similarly blur in the technological sphere: consider a scenario where a synthetic messenger—an AI with a human façade—delivers directives from a distant authority (human or AI). The observer might ask: Is this entity a mere device, or is it something more?

If these AI beings become integrated into daily life, recognized as “messengers” in legal and social frameworks, the ancient ambiguity might gain new relevance. Just as ancient readers had to pause and wonder, “Does this malakh come from G‑d’s throne or from a neighboring king’s court?” future observers might wonder, “Is this moving, speaking, intelligent figure before me human or synthetic? Is it an autonomous moral agent or a flawless executor of another’s will?”

Furthermore, the forthcoming synthetic reality of humans sharing our habitat with AI raises difficult ontological questions: What constitutes consciousness? How do we define agency in artificial systems? Where does autonomy begin and programmed behavior end?

A Veiled Hint or a Timeless Feature:

It is bold to suggest that the Torah’s phrasing is a veiled hint at advanced robotics and AI, but religious texts often gain renewed relevance as societies evolve. The Torah, and by extension the Hebrew language, encodes concepts that can resonate in radically different contexts. The ambiguity of “מַלְאָךְ” (malakh) forces us to focus on functions and relationships rather than physical essence. In a near-future scenario filled with humanoid robots, AI agents, and synthetic human cyborgs, that same emphasis could help us navigate the moral and philosophical challenges of determining how to treat entities that look and act human but are engineered rather than born.

In other words, the ancient textual ambiguity could serve as a conceptual guidepost: it encourages us to ask not just “What is this being made of?” but “Whose will does it carry? What purpose does it serve? How should I respond ethically?” These questions remain relevant whether the being in question is an angel made of divine creation, a human messenger made of flesh, or a humanoid robot built out of silicon and circuits.

Thus, the subtle ambiguity in the Torah’s language, preserved through millennia, might not simply be a linguistic quirk, but a timeless feature enabling us to ask profound questions about identity, agency, and the true nature of a “messenger”—questions that may become even more pressing as technological advancements bring the ancient scenario to life in unexpected ways.

Philosophical Implications

The malach paradigm offers several insights for contemporary discussions:

1. Function Over Form

The anscient Aristotelian dabate about form vs substance and the Talmudic tzura–chomer dichotomy become acutely relevant in contemporary world. The biblical use of malakh suggests that role and function (tzura-form) may be more fundamental than physical composition (chomer-matter): the messenger’s purpose defines its identity, the importance of relationship and context, the primacy of function over substance—these are some of the factors that must be considered in construing the meaing of the word or of a being (e.g., human, AI agent, robot, cyborg).

2. Degrees of Agency

The spectrum from angel to human to AI suggests a continuum of agency: from perfect execution by angelic beings or algorithms to limited autonomy of AI systems to full moral agency of human beings.

3. Ethical Considerations

The ambiguity forces us to confront important ethical questions: How should we treat entities that blur traditional categories? What rights and responsibilities should be assigned to artificial agents? How do we maintain human dignity in an increasingly automated world?

Conclusion

The linguistic ambiguity of malakh in the Torah provides a sophisticated framework for understanding the relationship between different types of ontologically different entities. As the lines between human, machine, and hybrid entities become increasingly blurred, this divine wisdom offers valuable insights for navigating the philosophical and practical challenges ahead.

The Torah’s use of malakh to encompass both human and divine messengers suggests that we should focus less on the underlying nature of entities and more on their roles, relationships, and purposes. This perspective could prove invaluable as we work to integrate artificial intelligence and robotics into human society while preserving human dignity and moral agency.

In the end, the ancient question of whether Jacob’s messengers were human or divine may serve as a template for understanding and resolving modern questions about the nature of consciousness, agency, and purpose in an increasingly complex technological landscape.

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