What a Chinese Manufacturer Taught Me About the Power of Shabbos

This morning, while writing to a new contact introduced by one of our Platform Partners, I found myself editing my own authenticity.

We were trying to schedule a call. I wrote:

“Monday is tight, but I’m available 24/6.”

Then, I added in parentheses: (but not on Shabbat or Jewish holidays).

But it didn’t feel right. It felt... edited.

So I rewrote it:“Available 24-6, except for Shabbos and Yom Tov.”

Why? Because if I'm serious about building relationships based on real values, then I need to show up in my real voice, even in email.

Later in the day, I was sitting with a Chinese manufacturing team. General Manager, International Sales Director, interpreter. We were negotiating a Platform Partnership Agreement.

I spoke slowly.

They translated.

I paused.

They translated again.

Finally, I suggested: “Let’s just speak in our own languages and let tech do the rest.”

We took out our phones.

They spoke in Mandarin.

I spoke in English.

AI translated, transcribed, clarified, and we connected.

That meeting? It ended with mutual clarity.

We’re moving forward on the partnership.

Here’s what struck me:

In a world obsessed with speed, AI gave us something more powerful: the ability to communicate with our own voice, without losing meaning or identity.

The Rebbe always saw technology as more than utility.

When the internet first emerged, he called it a bomb. Not in fear, but in recognition of its explosive potential.

And like all bombs, it depends how you use it:

• It can destroy, or defend.

• It can blind, or reveal.

• It can automate, or amplify the soul.

  
  

Last week, I asked one of our tech partners to explain AI, and technology in general, in plain English.

He broke it down beautifully:

1. Data – The raw input.

2. Logic – The rules, the reasoning.

3. Interface – The experience we have with it.

That’s not just how AI works.

That’s how we work.

We all carry data.

Our values, our stories, our truth.

We all apply logic, through upbringing, insight, belief.

And we all interface with each other, with the world.

But the only real data worth trusting?

Truth. Emes. And in Hebrew, truth has no plural, because truth is singular.

Everything else is noise.

The Rebbe’s genius was in scaling this truth.

He didn’t just teach values.

He built a values-aligned system.

A platform.

Data? Torah

Logic? Chassidus

Interface? Chabad Houses, schools, emissaries, businesses.

He saw technology not as a threat to identity, but as the amplifier of soul.

He saw money not as a goal, but as atomic energy, capable of healing or harming, depending on how it’s used.

Money can light up the world. Or it can fund destruction.

It can support dignity. Or fuel greed, waste, war.

In Business of Soul, we don’t fear money. We reframe it: as a sacred test of choice.

God doesn’t ask us for everything. He asks us for a tenth. Maybe twenty percent. That’s it.

And yet, look at how many choose extraction over elevation.

AI is no different.

Like money, it multiplies the impact of what we bring to it.

But the real power in the world doesn’t come from code or capital.

It comes from a person who wakes up and says:“Modeh Ani.”

One honest prayer.

One act of gratitude.

One moment of truth.

That’s nuclear.

That’s what the Rebbe understood.

That’s why your voice. Your real voice is the Business of Soul.