What might be the significance of these hopes and expectations that were sparked by Noach’s birth and then shattered? The tragic ending to the story of this generation perhaps teaches that we cannot look to technological breakthroughs for a source of joy and gratification.  

 One of the great tragic ironies in the story of Noach is the hope and optimism that his birth heralded.  We read toward the end of Parashat Bereishit (5:29) that Noach’s father, Lemekh, announced at the time of Noach’s birth that his newborn son would “bring us consolation from our exertion and the anguish of our work resulting from the land that the Lord cursed.”  Rashi explains that Lemekh prophetically foresaw his new son’s contributions toward agriculture.  Noach, as Rashi cites from the Midrash Tanchuma, developed tools that significantly simplified the agricultural process.  Lemekh named his son “Noach” – which is derived from the word “rest” or “respite” – because he foresaw the newfound comfort that the world would enjoy thanks to his son’s inventions.

            Ironically, and tragically, the generation of Noach would be known not as a period of comfort and enjoyment, but rather as a time of destruction of ruin, the likes of which the world would never again experience.

            What might be the significance of these hopes and expectations that were sparked by Noach’s birth and then shattered?  Why did the Torah find it necessary to tell us (albeit subtly) of Noach’s inventions and the wave of optimism triggered by the anticipation of these instruments?

            One possibility, perhaps, emerges from the word “itzvon” used in this context.  In his prophecy, Lemekh speaks of the alleviation of “itzvon yadeinu” – the “anguish” or “sorrow” wrought by God’s curse.  The root e.tz.v. appears three times in God’s curses to Adam and Chava after the sin of the forbidden fruit (“itzvoneikh…be-etzev…be-itzavon” – 3:16-17).  God decreed that after the banishment from Gan Eden, human beings would have to endure etzev to fulfill their needs and realize their ambitions.  Life would not always be happy; the road to contentment would pass through the “kotz ve-dardar,” the thorns of thistles of hardship, agony and frustration.  Noach’s generation finally received some relief in the form of technological advancement that revolutionized the agricultural process.  The etzev was significantly reduced, and the people looked forward to a new opportunity to live enjoyable, rather than difficult, lives.

The tragic ending to the story of this generation perhaps teaches that we cannot look to technological breakthroughs for a source of joy and gratification.  Of course, there is nothing inherently wrong with advancements that alleviate the burdens and hardships of life, and that simplify the challenges posed by existence on earth.  The problem arises when we expect these advancements to eliminate our “etzev,” and to bring us joy and fulfillment.  People in Noach’s time thought they would find happiness in the new inventions, but they did not, leading them to the kind of mischief and mayhem described in the subsequent verses (6:1-4).  Noach himself, whom the Torah describes as an “ish adama” – a man of the land, somebody whose very identity was associated with agriculture – found himself in a drunken stupor after the flood.  When people look to the “adama” – to material success bolstered by technological progress – as a source of contentment, they will likely find themselves feeling empty and unfulfilled, and seeking gratification in dangerous and illicit conduct.

The story of Migdal Bavel, which is told later in Parashat Noach, is often seen as a warning against technological progress that leads people to trust in their own innovativeness and sophistication, and to thus deny the existence, power or relevance of the Almighty.  The story of Noach’s generation, perhaps, presents us with a different warning concerning technological advancement, urging us to avoid the temptation to view it as a source of existential joy and contentment.  Technology serves a critical role in making difficult tasks easy, but it falls short of bringing us respite from the “etzev” decreed upon mankind in the wake of Adam and Chava’s sin. It can be indispensable in enabling us to realize our goals, but must never be mistaken for a goal unto itself.

(Based on an article by Rav Nadav Levin of Kollel Torah MiTzion Montreal)