 Given his scientific training, Leibowitz “argues” on the basis of empirical (most often historical) evidence for certain factual claims regarding, for example, the centrality of mitzvoth in Judaism to the exclusion of mysticism, philosophy, or dogma. Yet, on the very same positivistic grounds, he is not willing to launch parallel “arguments” in order to justify specific practices or indeed Jewish practice as a whole (though this is a topic to which we will have cause to return). Leibowitz helps himself to a stark fact/value distinction, insisting that “Values are not anchored in reality” (Judaism, 139); that there is “no relation of connection or mutual dependence between scientific cognition and evaluative decision” (Mada, 7). Thus, if one is expecting to find an argument justifying the halakhic way of life through syllogistic reasoning from foundational principles, or justifications of the commandments in the manner of the great medieval Jewish philosopher Moses Maimonides, one is likely to be disappointed. What we do find, in line with much contemporary Jewish philosophy, is an insider’s account of the meaning of faith in Judaism as understood from within that tradition, albeit with implications beyond those boundaries. And for Leibowitz, such “meaning” is aligned with the purposes and values we espouse, such that at times he uses the expression “value and meaning”, or some variation of it, as if it were a single syntactic unit (see Judaism, 135–138, for example) As Leibowitz notes when discussing Aristotelian science, two people looking at the same things and agreed on all of the material facts and “efficient causes” can nonetheless attach very different meanings to the phenomena in question when they introduce the perspective of their final causes (Mada, 27). So while facts are relevant to his factual claims about the nature of Judaism, it is to values and purposes that we must turn if we are to fully understand meaning, and the meaning of the faith of Judaism cannot therefore be justified by appeal to the world of scientific cognition. At the same time, in contrast to some of the best-known twentieth century Jewish philosophers, Leibowitz is also wary of any appeal to religious experience to further his account of the meaning of Jewish faith. “Most characteristic of the Halakhah,” he tells us, “is its lack of pathos” (Judaism, 13). The only reliable tools that we can use in order to investigate the meaning of this evaluative notion of faith, therefore, remain those of discursive reasoning. Thus we generally find Leibowitz using the tools of rational philosophical discourse to trace the implications of his foundational positions to their logical conclusions.