This is a special High Holy Days column, in honor of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Many readers will recognize the title's reference to an old Jewish joke: While almost all synagogues are open to all comers year-round, on the High Holy Days they are overflowing and you have to pay for tickets. A Jew comes to the door without a ticket and explains to the usher that he doesn't want to stay, he just wants to give a message to someone inside. After a tense confrontation, the usher agrees to let the person in, but warns sternly: "Don't let me catch you praying." The analogy is to a number of laws in the State of Israel that are specially designed to prevent people from doing the right thing. Here is a partial list: Water subsidies to agriculture Israel, like almost every other country on earth, subsidizes its agriculture. This in itself would not qualify the subsidies for this column. The problem here is one important way they are given: subsidized prices on water. The only way an Israeli farmer can realize the government aid is by wasting water, a resource that is in particularly short supply in Israel. The government in effect says to farmers: Go ahead and enjoy the subsidy, but don't let me catch you conserving water. Building in the haredi school system Most of the haredi schools in Israel are defined as "independent," meaning that the degree of supervision by the Education Ministry is limited; the amount of budgetary support is commensurately limited as well. In particular, the haredi school buildings are not eligible for government funding through the Education Ministry and are not subject to the rigorous planning process the ministry demands. Nevertheless, due to the demands of the haredi parties, which are almost always influential coalition members, the government finances a large amount of haredi school building. But these funds are granted on a solemn condition; that they be hit-and-run transfers without any rational long-range planning. For example, many classes are housed in temporary structures that are the worst of both worlds: compared with regular school buildings, they are more expensive, less durable, less comfortable and take up much more space. The government tells these schools: You can have a budget for your schools, but don't let me catch you using it in a rational way. The Antiquities Law Reading this law, it sounds reasonable enough. Antiquities belong to the government; new development may be subject to surveys by the Antiquities Authority and, when necessary, so may digs to unearth and preserve important finds. Based on my research, these regulations are much more draconian than those in other countries, but that may make sense. In Israel, antiquities are found virtually everywhere; they have a special importance in our country, where the distant past is so much a part of our national identity and our attraction to tourists. The act also provides that anyone who is harmed by the declaration of the site as an archaeological site is entitled to compensation. But in practice, this compensation doesn't come close to covering the expenses incurred in having your lot declared an archaeological site. For example, the surveys and the digs are conducted at the expense of the developer, and there is no compensation for the delay in building. This is not inherently repugnant. After all, it is the responsibility of developers to make sure their work conforms with other regulations; for example, to prepare an environmental-impact statement and to incur expenses involved in conforming with environmental-protection rules. The problem here is that the inadequate compensation gives developers every incentive to use building techniques that are least likely to reveal and preserve antiquities, as any such revelation brings a massive penalty on the developer. There should be some more equitable way of spreading the "risk" of finding antiquities - perhaps a unified "antiquities fee" on all development, which would then be used to fund digs on those lands where artifacts were found. Another possibility is to encourage insurance companies to offer "antiquity insurance" for developers. In the meantime, the Antiquities Authority tells developers: Go ahead and build, but don't let me catch you preserving any antiquities. That wraps it up for this year. Perhaps next year we will tackle some more examples, such as: Haredi men are exempt from army service, but only if they don't work (Don't let me catch you be self-supporting); Arab municipalities have inadequate legal planning together with inadequate punishment for illegal planning (Don't let me catch you building legally), and so on. Or perhaps by next year we will have a situation where everyone will be able to pray free on the High Holy Days, and everyone will be free to conduct their affairs in a rational and responsible way. ethics-at-work@besr.org Asher Meir is research director at the Business Ethics Center of Jerusalem (www.besr.org), an independent institute in the Jerusalem College of Technology.

Don't let me catch you praying

Ethics at Work: Sometimes the law won't let you do the right thing.