Yosef (Joseph) is arguably the most compelling figure in the entire Torah.
He is the only man that is described in the Torah as “beautiful.” Women in Egypt would climb walls to catch glimpses of him as he passed in royal processions.
This image of Yosef, although factually correct, lacks depth perception.
His beauty was more than skin deep. The impressions he made on people were profound because his beauty was rooted in truth.1
At the age of 30, Yosef was summoned out of the Egyptian royal dungeon, where he’d been confined for over ten years as a prisoner. He was quickly groomed and given fresh clothes to stand before the most powerful man on the planet at the time, tasked with interpreting his incessant dreams, which had confounded his entire court.
The reason Pharaoh knew to call on Yosef was because two years prior, the palace’s head butler had spent a short stint in the same prison as him. There, Yosef made an impression on him as a dream interpreter par excellence by revealing that the dream he dreamt meant that he would be reinstated as head butler despite the crime against the king for which he had been found guilty.
It took the butler two years of deliberating whether he had more to gain politically by sharing with the king the contact details of his “dream-interpretation guy” in prison than he would lose by reminding Pharaoh about the crime that got him locked up in the first place.2
In the end, he attempted a power play of currying favor with Pharaoh while simultaneously diminishing Yosef’s stature, pigeonholing him as a “Hebrew slave boy.” His hope was that he would get credit for his “hot tip” that saved the day without risking being eclipsed by Yosef by smearing his image on the political pyramid. Typical political nonsense.
Despite the unflattering introduction by the butler, Yosef managed to rapidly transcend any bias that Pharaoh held against him. (Meanwhile, the butler never gets mentioned again.)
Yosef stood before Pharaoh, cool and confident, without a need to compensate or impress the one person in whose hands his fate apparently rested.3 When Pharaoh brought up Yosef’s reputation as a fabulous dream interpreter, Yosef naturally and humbly responded, “It’s not me, but God Who will see to Pharaoh’s welfare.”
It seems likely that Yosef’s refusal to impress Pharaoh is what made such a deep impression.
Yosef didn’t jump at the opportunity for self-promotion. He didn’t take Pharaoh’s bait even if this was his “big break.” Instead, he gave credit where credit was due (God), and stood ready to deliver the goods that were being asked of him.
Note how radical it is for the man most associated with beauty and image in all of Torah literature to be so against self-promotion. But it’s precisely Yosef’s quiet integrity that outshined all the sycophants that filled Pharaoh’s court.
Yosef proceeded to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams to mean that there would be seven years of agricultural and economic boom, followed by seven years of famine and economic depression. Everyone would forget the good times as the bad times set in. This is not easy news to deliver to a king. Yosef continued by explaining that God was urging Pharaoh through his recurring dreams to immediately appoint someone to prepare the economy for the impending depression by storing food, and then sell it back during the famine.
To the reader who may have heard this story as a child, this may not be particularly impressive display of dream interpretation. It may sound intuitive. In all likelihood though, this is a function of our familiarity with the story. Pharaoh was so blown away by Yosef that not only did he accept his interpretation as valid, on the spot, he hired him for the job he had just described, elevating him to regent and functional king over Egypt — “only by the throne will I outrank you.”
The anonymous “Hebrew slave boy” fresh out of prison managed to make quite an impression by simply speaking truth to power.
Thirteen years prior, Yosef suffered from serious image problems. He was nearly executed by a tribunal of his brothers for high treason. His dreams were used as hard evidence of his delusions of grandeur, and clear intent to cut his brothers out of their illustrious family’s destiny.
And yet, despite their hatred for him, they could not ignore him or his dreams.
Yosef’s vision of a future in which they looked to his leadership for guidance was as mesmerizing as it was infuriating.
The brothers ended up selling their brother as slave to a random caravan of spice traders willing to make a few bucks through human trafficking. Yehuda felt that he could convince his brothers to merely banish Yosef, but not to completely spare him. After some barters and sales, Yosef eventually found himself employed as a slave in the house of Potiphar, the royal butcher of Egypt.
Being branded a slave didn’t stop Yosef from being described by the Torah as a “successful man.” Consider that most of us would be so preoccupied by the ugly optics of a lowly position as this one that we would refuse to do what it would take to be successful there. It’s precisely for this reason that the notion of a “successful slave” rings as an oxymoron to us. How successful can you be if you’re a slave??
How intriguing that Yosef the visionary learned to see the challenges in front of him by ignoring the optics of how he might have appeared to others, and how this very imperviousness to others’ perceptions elevated him in their eyes.
Yosef didn’t see his successes as his alone, which is why Potiphar attributed his success to God who was clearly with him. This made Potiphar feel secure enough to appoint Yosef over his entire estate.
The problem was that Potiphar’s wife also found Yosef irresistible, but when she demanded for Yosef to be with her and was outright denied, she accused him publicly of impropriety, landing him in the royal dungeon.
It turns out that a person who can be successful as a slave, can be successful anywhere. And so it goes that Yosef became so well-liked in prison that the warden put him in charge of all the inmates.
By the time Yosef got whisked out of prison to stand before the king, he had long been successful. He was successful as a slave and successful as an inmate in prison — why wouldn’t he succeed in the royal court? The rigid labels and optics that hold us back could not stop Yosef from success.
Who was this man? What was the secret of his success?
At some point in college, Robert Kegan encountered Chassidic insights into the human mind, and toyed with the idea of becoming a rabbi. He decided instead to become a psychologist, and became one of the foremost researchers into adult psychological development.
His best-known framework is his “5 Stages of Development.”
Stage 1 is infancy — a baby with no sense of self — just disjointed perceptions, impulses and reflexes.
Stage 2 marks a dramatic transition into a little person with a coherent sense of self. It is often experienced by parents as the “terrible 2s” (which, by the way, is a misnomer as it extends well into the 3s and 4s and sometimes beyond). Here, the child tries to assert his newfound selfhood and “independence.”4
The hallmark of Stage 3 is the individual’s ability to recognize that he is not the only “self” in the world. Lo and behold, there are other people, each with his or her own self, whom he should be aware of, sensitive to, and communicate with. Parents and teachers work hard with their preteens and teenagers to broaden their world from Stage 2 to Stage 3.
The interesting thing about Kegan’s model is that every stage is the counterpoint to the stage that precedes it. While young teens in Stage 3 learn to be sensitive to others, functional adulthood demands that people make their own choices despite what the herd is doing. This is a hard maneuver for most people, which is why 2⁄3 of adults never make it fully out of the social grip of others’ opinions in Stage 3 to fully arrive at the next stage:
Stage 4 — while a person needs to care about other’s viewpoints, to be a leader, he must be the author of his own life, hence the title of this stage: “Self-Authoring.”
A true leader must learn to think and act independently — whether we’re talking about a dad who needs to resist his kids’ pleas to stay up past their bedtime, or a CEO who succeeds in prevailing over her board of directors that they should stay the course of her vision through choppy waters. The more independent a person is from others’ perceptions, the more she has entered Stage 4.
The stages, however, are cumulative — a leader must master Stage 3 to truly listen to and communicate with others, and then, enter into Stage 4 to bring to fruition her vision — without alienating those she is trying to lead.
Kegan calls the final stage, Stage 5, the “Self-Transforming Mind.”
His research has demonstrated that less than 1% of adults make it to this stage of development. While most CEOs must be self-authoring to chart the course of their companies and stay focused in spite of the nay-sayers, very few are dynamic enough to allow their vision to evolve. Rare is the leader who can maintain his essential vision while he integrates other people’s viewpoints as well. This is the leader who rises to the top and continues to grow in an ever-evolving world in which most others plateau.
Yosef’s dreams were met with hatred and jealousy. Was he oblivious to the way he was perceived by them or simply thick-skinned? Was he transitioning from Stage 2 to Stage 3, or from Stage 4 to Stage 5?
With the exception of his insistence in sharing his dreams with his brothers, Yosef was not only socially adept — he was socially gifted. By his late teens, Yosef seemed to have mastered Stage 3, and saw his life as a story he would author through his own decisions. It’s more likely that Yosef was actually precociously transitioning from Stage 4 to Stage 5, than from 3 to 4. Yosef was merely struggling with allowing his vision to play out and evolve in its own way.
We asked what Yosef’s secret was. From a young age, Yosef was given a grand vision of his future. When he shared it with his brothers, it blew up in his face.
But look at how he reacted.
He didn’t give up on his vision just because others didn’t like it.
Nor did he just keep plowing ahead without regard to others’ opinions.
It didn’t initially play out the way he had imagined it, so he allowed it to play out in his own way without getting frustrated at those around him for his vision not manifesting.
My rabbi’s father Rabbi Isaac Bernstein zt”l observed that Yosef’s development went from heavy-handed sharing of his dreams to helping others understand their own dreams. His own dream of leadership would come to fruition as he helped others achieve theirs.
In his youth, however, Yosef’s vision blinded him from seeing how things could be any other way.
Right before Yosef stumbled upon his brothers, who, by then, were figuring out what to do with him, Yosef is described as having gotten “lost in the field.” The question, of course, is which field? The Torah does not say. The Alshich explains that Yosef was the field in which “there we were, binding sheaves in the midst of the field, when my sheaf stood up and remained upright, and then your sheaves…bowed down before it.” Yosef got lost in his own vision. He couldn’t find his brothers because he was too much in his own head — “lost in the field” of his dreams.
Similarly, Yosef’s father, Yaakov (Jacob) saw leadership potential in him and wanted to signal this potentially visually to his other sons through the special coat that he made for Yosef, which, of course, also backfired terribly.
The coat became both an example and symbol of the visionary’s challenge. The beauty of a vision can so easily blind people from seeing the truth it is meant to reveal — both the one who had the vision and those who are shown it. The brothers could barely hear what Yosef had to say — all they could see was the coat their father had gifted him alone — ironically, the very coat Yaakov thought would make them listen to what Yosef had to say. It’s no accident that the first thing they do when they resolve to kill him is strip him of his coat.5
Although Yosef’s visions got him thrown into a pit, what protected him from falling into the dismal pit of depression and victimhood was his realization that the vision was given to him by God, and it would come to be in its time and its way.
A minority of people make it to Stage 4 to lead and author their own futures. Of those that do, almost all of them get stuck in their own visions. Their ego becomes enmeshed in the way they see things unfolding, manipulating others when their vision does not play out the way they imagined it, and blaming others for not doing their part to bring it about.
Yosef, however, remained aware that his dreams came from the same source that allows them to come true. It was not his vision. It was God’s. He was just privileged to have been shown it.
He therefore knew that if he focused on doing what he was supposed to do, no matter where God put him, his vision will come to be. At no point do we hear Yosef complaining about his circumstances, or blaming others. It’s between him and God.
Decades later, when he revealed his identity to his brothers, he even told them to not blame themselves:
It is this mindset that allowed him to be successful even as a slave in Potiphar’s house instead of wallowing in self-pity over the catastrophic rejection by his brothers of him and his vision.
It is this mindset that allowed him to escape the unimaginable test of Potiphar’s wife’s advances on him. Nothing could determine his future aside from his own moral decisions and God’s providence.
Even when he told her he couldn’t be with her, he didn’t say “we would be sinning towards God” — he said “I would be sinning towards God.” The Kotsker Rebbe explains that using the word “we” can be a subconscious way to absolve oneself of culpability by placing partial blame on the partner in crime. Yosef focused on himself and his own choices.
Contrast this with the people around him. The head butler failed to share the information about the world-class dream interpreter he knew lest he remind Pharaoh of his crimes — and when he finally did, he made sure to put him down to not give him too much power.
Potiphar’s wife didn’t own up to her lack of self-control — not with her husband and not with the general public. She condemned an innocent man to rot in jail in order to try and salvage her own image.
Even Yehuda, Yosef’s brother and counterbalance as leader of the family — his decision to sell Yosef was a compromise because he couldn’t imagine his brothers agreeing to just stop the whole indictment. By trying to protect his image as leader in his brothers’ eyes, Yehuda ended up “stepping down from his brothers.”
A true visionary recognizes that visions are gifts from God.
This truth allows him to allow the vision to come about however the Master of the Universe wants it — at whatever pace the Master of the Universe allows it to unfold. Meanwhile, the visionary must do whatever he has to do, wherever God places him.
This was Yosef’s key to success. It can be ours once we accept that our visions and our successes are God’s.
Yosef is described as the primary son of Yaakov, and the verse says explicitly that “Yisrael (i.e. Yaakov) loved Yosef more than his other sons because he was a child of his wisdom, which is why he made his a special coat.” What was their connection about?
Yaakov’s essential trait was truth. The problem with truth is that it looks ugly in a world of lies. It was in Yosef that Yaakov saw an ability to project truth beautifully. Beauty without truth is false, and truth without beauty is lame. It is this essential connection between truth and beauty that became manifest in the unique connection between Yaakov and Yosef. Yosef took Yaakov’s wisdom to a place he couldn’t take it on his own — out into the world.
He also got himself into a pickle by failing to suggest Yosef’s services earlier in that two year period of Pharaoh’s recurring dreams. The more time that passed in which he should have offered a solution and didn’t, the worse he would look when he finally would step forward with the idea. Eventually, though, the keep is so desperate that the chief butler decides to cut his losses and pipes up, “[Forgive me] for recounting my sins today…” To compensate for casting himself in a negative light, he makes sure to cast Yosef in an even worse light, “there was a Hebrew slave boy there with us.”
I’m blanking on where I read this, but a commentary explains that the reason the chief butler “forgot” about Yosef for so long after having been so impressed is precisely because Yosef asked him to “remember him.” He had been bowled over by Yosef until he asked him to return him a favor, which instantly lowered him in his eyes, allowing him to fade from the front of his mind to the back of his mind.
Think about how toddlers insist on doing things, like tying their shoes, “by themselves” when they often are objectively incapable.
It seems likely that when Potiphar’s wife throws herself at him her grabbing and stripping him of his clothes at that time is a further example of how superficial appearances can overwhelm the person who is clothed in them.
Hi Rabbi,
Thank you for sharing this—such a great read. I’d love to get your perspective on a question that came to mind.
The reading highlights Yosef’s deep faith and understanding that his fate is intrinsically tied to God’s will and divine plan. Yosef’s attitude reflects an acceptance of his circumstances as opportunities to serve a higher purpose.
For example, you mention how Yosef does not become embittered or resentful about the years of hardship he endures. Instead, he trusts that his dreams and visions will come to fruition in God’s time, even if the path is uncertain or painful. This is evident in his refusal to complain about being forgotten by the butler.
You also touch on Yosef’s ability to succeed in any circumstance, which stems from his belief that God is guiding his steps. He focuses on making the most of each situation, confident that God’s plan is unfolding, even when it isn’t immediately visible.
Additionally, Yosef recognizes that his personal trials are part of a larger divine narrative. When he reveals his identity to his brothers, he reframes their betrayal not as their wrongdoing but as part of God’s plan to save lives during the famine.
In all of this, we see Yosef’s attitude as a combination of personal agency and submission to divine will. His success is due to his alignment with God’s purpose, which he embraces with unwavering faith and humility.
Now, here’s my question: If all of this is true, how can we explain why Yosef asked the cupbearer to put in a good word to Pharaoh to help him get out of jail?… “So if you keep me in mind when things go well for you, please do me the kindness of mentioning me to Pharaoh, and thus you will get me out of this prison-building.”
Wouldn’t true faith in God mean waiting for God to intervene instead of relying on human help? After all, his actions here seemingly led to him remaining in jail for more years as a punishment.
Eager to hear your response.
Best,
Josh