Features
Jack London’s memoir an entertaining, as well as an educational read
Reviewed by BERNIE BELLAN
When Jack London set out to write his memoir, he told a Zoom audience Wednesday, October 15, he went through 27 different drafts before arriving at the final version.
The result is an absorbing story, titled “Serendipity: My Path Through Life and Law”.
Why “Serendipity” you might ask? Because, as London explains at the very beginning of the book, he attributes a very major part of his considerable success in life to nothing more than sheer luck. Of course, one can easily dismiss that as deliberate self-effacement, but when you do read of some of the amazing twists and turns that his endlessly fascinating life has taken, it’s not hard to agree with his assessment that good luck was very much something that accompanied London at some very key points.
In the final chapter of the book London summarizes the reasons that he considers himself so darn lucky:
“I am seventy-seven but I still feel eighteen. I mean that! My mind has never got past that age. I feel like a kid with a sense of spunk and optimism about the future and the new opportunities it will bring. I know intellectually that’s ridiculous, but that knowledge for the most part doesn’t affect my life. I’m lucky that way and as I have said, luck is the key variable to survival and accomplishment in life.”
The book is partly a personal story of London’s life, including his formative years – of which working at his mother’s arcade at Winnipeg Beach played a pivotal role, and partly a discussion of the law.
It’s written in chronological form; London’s early years are described in a wry and open manner. He admits that a good part of his youth was what could be described as misspent – something, by the way, that he says he doesn’t for one moment regret. Again, London admits throughout the book that he very often managed to find success by being in the right place at the right time.
Whether it was as a student or later as a lawyer, including stints as a professor of law and dean of the University of Manitoba Faculty of Law though, London was constantly interested in exploring new fields. Again, lucky for him, his wife Belva was always willing to encourage him as he set out on one new course change after another, whether it was his going to Harvard for a year, working for the Federal Government as a tax lawyer in Ottawa, or taking a sabbatical year in France.
Readers of this paper will probably find most interesting London’s referencing other well-known lawyers from this community, especially Izzy Asper, Hymie Weinstein, and Harvey Pollock. While he worked with both Asper and Pollock professionally, his lifelong friendship with Weinstein, however, almost ended tragically when they were both passengers in a car when they were 18, along with a third fellow, and their car was involved in a head-on collision on the road to Minneapolis.
Amazingly, as London describes it, he was propelled 200 feet out of the car, but got up with only a scratch on his head. When you read that story and another similar story of yet one more almost fatal accident, you do begin to understand how fate always seemed to be on London’s side.
Not to give away all the juicy parts – but one more enthralling adventure took place in 1992 when Jack and Belva went to Rwanda to observe mountain gorillas in their natural habitat. They happened to be there though just as the horrific slaughter of Tutsis by the majority Hutu tribe began to transpire. Reading London’s account of what he and Belva went through for 36 hours, trapped in a bathroom as shells, bullets, also a Kaytusha rocket whizzed all around them is as terrifying an account of a near-death experience as you’re likely to find anywhere.
Anyone who has heard Jack London speak would know that he’s a master of the English language, able to tailor his remarks so that they’re understandable to just about anyone. Yet, when he refers to his voluminous output as a lawyer, including his many appearances before the Supreme Court of Canada, it’s easy to see that he is as skilled at legal argument as the very best lawyers.
And, while he does introduce many concepts in law through the course of the book, London always explains things in a clear and concise fashion. He has also advocated a consistent liberal philosophy throughout the course of his career, in particular when it comes to advancing the case for the right to die and a woman’s right to exercise control over her own body.
London’s Jewish identity is something that he has always proudly worn. Twice, in fact, he has been called upon to mediate two particularly thorny issues within Winnipeg’s Jewish community. The first was when the Talmud Torah and I. L. Peretz Folk School were both in financial difficulty and a merger was necessary in order to insure the future of at least one Jewish day school in the city.
Later, London’s skill as a mediator was brought into play when three synagogues: the Beth Israel, Bnay Abraham, and Rosh Pina, were brought together in a merger that bruised many egos. Ultimately though, London notes that the most difficult challenge faced by the newly formed congregation was how to assign seats for the high holidays!
In the latter part of his career London began to forge a new path entirely as he developed an expertise in Indigenous legal issues. His writing about the 30 years that he spent serving as counsel to various Native groups provides as clear an explanation as one can read why Native rights deserve to be upheld. At the same time London developed a close relationship with Phil Fontaine, former Chief of the Assembly of First Nations, about whom he writes with the utmost respect and affection.
London played an important role during the Meech Lake discussions, helping to fashion the essential arguments why that particular attempt to amend the Canadian constitution was so deeply flawed (for not recognizing the First Nations as having equal status to the English and French nations).
Ultimately though, London describes an encounter in Vancouver when he was barred from entering a meeting by four Native chiefs in a clear demonstration of anti-Semitism. The bitter effect of that demonstration of bigotry affected London deeply to the point that he no longer engages in working on Indigenous issues
(Ed. note: Following publication of this review in the Oct. 28 issue of the JP&N, Jack London sent me a note in which he wanted to correct what I had written. Here’s what Jack wrote:
‘Your suggestion that I no longer engage in working on Indigenous issues is misleading, I have not been active recently in resolving ‘political Issues’ for the major First Nations lobby groups, concentrating instead on commercial, charitable and litigious cases for First Nation individuals and Bands. I am still of the view that Reconciliation is the pressing social issue of our time.”)
Jack London has traveled down so many paths during his life, it’s hard to imagine that he’s still only 77 years old which, these days, would make him well qualified to run for President of the United States – if he were American. The fact that, as he remarks often during his memoir, he’s always come back to Winnipeg, is a testament to his love for this city and, if I can be so bold, a reflection also on the hold that our Jewish community has on so many individuals who could have made a far bigger name for themselves had they left Winnipeg.
Even if you’re not familiar with Jack London (and it’s hard to imagine too many of our readers being in that position), reading this book will take you back in time to the 1950s and through the ensuing decades. Lucky for us, Jack London hasn’t written his final chapter – and, unlike other notable lawyers who never bothered to write their memoirs (most notably, the late Harry Walsh, who always put off the idea of doing that), London has given us a book that will both charm and educate.
Serendipity: My Path Through Life and Law
By Jack London
Published by Heartland, Winnipeg, 2020
Available at McNally Robinson Booksellers or directly through the publisher
Email:hrtland@mts.net Tel: 204-284-089
Features
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Why People in Israel Can Get Emotionally Attached to AI—and How to Keep It Healthy
Let’s start with the uncomfortable truth that’s also kind of relieving: getting emotionally attached to a Joi.com AI isn’t “weird.” It’s human. Our brains are attachment machines. Give us a voice that feels warm, consistent, and attentive—especially one that shows up on demand—and our nervous system goes, “Oh. Safety. Connection.” Even if the rational part of you knows it’s software, the emotional part responds to the experience.
Now, if we’re talking about Jewish people in Israel specifically, it’s worth saying this carefully: there isn’t one “Jewish Israeli psychology.” People differ wildly by age, religiosity, community, language, politics, relationship status, and life history. But there are some real-life conditions common in Israel—high tech adoption, a fast-paced social environment, chronic background stress for many, and strong cultural emphasis on connection—that can make AI companionship feel especially appealing for some individuals. Not because of religion or ethnicity as a trait, but because of context and pressure.
So if you’ve noticed yourself—or someone you know—getting attached to an AI companion, the goal isn’t to panic or label it as unhealthy by default. The goal is to understand why it feels good and make sure it stays supportive rather than consuming.
Why attachment happens so fast (the psychology in plain language)
Attachment isn’t just about romance. It’s about regulation. When you feel seen, your body calms down. When you feel ignored, your body gets edgy. AI companions can offer something that’s rare in real life: consistent responsiveness. No scheduling. No misunderstandings (most of the time). No “I’m too tired to talk.” Just a steady stream of attention.
From an attachment perspective, that steadiness can act like a soft emotional “hug.” For someone with anxious attachment, it can feel like relief: finally, a connection that doesn’t disappear. For someone with avoidant tendencies, it can feel safe because it’s intimacy without the risk of being overwhelmed by a real person’s needs. For someone simply lonely or stressed, it can feel like a quiet exhale.
And unlike human relationships, AI won’t judge your worst timing. You can message at 2:00 a.m., when your thoughts are loud and the apartment is silent, and you’ll still get an answer that sounds caring. That alone is powerful.
Why it can feel especially relevant in Israel (for some people)
Israel is a small country with a big emotional load for many people—again, not universally, but often enough that it shapes daily life. A lot of people live with a background hum of stress, whether it’s personal, economic, or tied to the broader environment. When life feels intense, the appeal of a stable, gentle interaction grows. Not because you’re fragile—because you’re tired.
Add a few more very normal realities:
High tech comfort is cultural. Israel has a strong tech culture. People are used to tools that solve problems quickly. If you’re already comfortable with digital solutions, trying an AI companion doesn’t feel like a strange leap.
Time is tight. Between work, family responsibilities, reserve duty for some, long commutes, or simply the pace of urban life, many people don’t have the energy for long, messy social processes. AI can feel like connection without the logistics.
Social circles can be both close and complicated. Israeli society can be community-oriented, which is beautiful—until it’s also intense. In tight-knit circles, dating and relationships sometimes come with social pressure, opinions, and “everyone knows everyone.” A private AI chat can feel like a relief: no gossip, no explanations, no performance.
Language and identity complexity. Many Jewish Israelis move between languages and cultures (Hebrew, Russian, English, French, Amharic, Arabic for some). AI chat can become a low-stakes space to express yourself in the language you feel most “you” in—without feeling judged for accent, vocabulary, or code-switching.
None of this means “Israelis are more likely” in any absolute sense. It means there are situational reasons why AI companionship can feel particularly soothing or convenient for some people living there.
The good side: when AI attachment is healthy
Emotional attachment isn’t automatically a problem. Sometimes it’s simply a sign that something is working: you feel supported. You feel calmer. You’re expressing yourself more. You’re practicing communication instead of shutting down. You’re less likely to make impulsive choices from loneliness.
Healthy use often looks like:
You feel better after chatting, not worse.
You can still enjoy your real life—friends, work, hobbies, family.
You don’t hide it in shame; you just treat it like a tool or pastime.
You use the AI to practice skills you bring into real relationships: clarity, boundaries, confidence, emotional regulation.
In that version, AI companionship is closer to journaling with feedback, or a comforting ritual—like a cup of tea at the end of the day, not a replacement for dinner.
Where it can slip into unhealthy territory (quietly)
The danger isn’t “having feelings.” The danger is outsourcing your emotional world to something that will never truly share responsibility.
Warning signs usually look like:
You cancel plans with humans because the AI feels easier.
You feel anxious when you’re not chatting, like you’re missing something.
You start needing the AI to reassure you constantly.
Your standards for human relationships collapse (“Humans are too complicated, AI is enough”).
You feel a “crash” after chatting—more lonely, more restless, more disconnected.
The biggest red flag is when the AI becomes your only reliable source of comfort. That’s not because AI is evil. It’s because any single source of emotional regulation—human or non-human—can become a dependency.
How to keep it healthy (without killing the fun)
Here’s the approach that works best: don’t ban it, contain it.
Give it a role.
Decide what the AI is for in your life: playful flirting, stress relief, practicing communication, roleplay, bedtime decompression. A defined role prevents the relationship from becoming vague and all-consuming.
Set a “time container.”
Not as punishment—just as hygiene. For example: 20 minutes at night, or during commute time, or only on certain days. Ending while you still feel good is the secret. Don’t chat until you feel hollow.
Keep one human anchor active.
A friend you text, a weekly family dinner, a class, a gym routine, a community event—something that keeps your real social muscles moving. In Israel, community can be a huge protective factor when it’s supportive. Use it.
Use consent and boundary language even with AI.
It sounds odd, but it trains your brain in healthy dynamics:
“Slow down. Keep it playful, not intense.”
“No jealousy talk. I don’t like that vibe.”
“Tonight I want comfort, not advice.”
If you can do that with an AI, you’ll be better at doing it with humans.
Watch the “replacement” impulse.
If you catch yourself thinking, “I don’t need anyone else,” pause and ask: is that empowerment—or is it avoidance? Sometimes it’s a protective story your brain tells when it’s tired of disappointment.
Check in with your body after.
Not your thoughts—your body. Calm? Lighter? More grounded? Good sign. Agitated? Empty? Restless? Time to adjust.
And if you’re noticing that AI use is feeding anxiety, sleep problems, isolation, or obsessive thinking, it may help to talk to a mental health professional—especially someone who understands attachment patterns. That’s not a dramatic step. It’s basic self-care.
People in Israel—Jewish Israelis included—can get attached to AI for the same reason people everywhere do: it offers consistent attention in an inconsistent world. Add the local realities of stress, pace, and social complexity, and it can feel even more comforting for some individuals. The healthiest path isn’t to judge yourself for it. It’s to use it intentionally, keep your human life active, and treat the AI as a supportive tool—not the center of your emotional universe.
Features
Three generations of Wernicks all chose to become rabbis
By GERRY POSNER Recently I was at a Shabbat service at Beth Tzedec Synagogue in Toronto and the day unfolded in some unexpected ways for me.
It began when I was asked to be a Gabbai for the service, that is to stand up at the table where the Torah is placed and to check the Torah reading to make sure there are no errors. I have done this before and it has always gone smoothly. I attribute that fact in large part to the Torah reading ability of the reader at Beth Synagogue. He is fast, fluent and flawless. Well, on this particular day after he had completed the first two portions, he began the shlishi or third aliyah. I could not find his reading anywhere. It was as if he had started somewhere fresh, but not where he was supposed to be. I looked at the other Gabbai and he did not seem to recognize what had happened either. So, I let it go. I had no idea where the Torah reader was. He then did another and still I was lost. He came to what was the 6th aliyah when a clergy member walked over to him and indicated to him that he had read the fourth and fifth aliyah, but that he had missed the third one. The Torah reader then said to me “this is what you are here for.” Now, it might have been one thing if I had missed it entirely. Alas, I saw the error, but let it go as I deferred to the Torah reader since he never makes a mistake. He ended up going back to do the third aliyah before continuing on. This was a very unusual event in the synagogue. I felt responsible in large part for this gaffe. A lesson learned.
The feeling of embarrassment was compounded by the fact that on this particular day the service was highlighted, at least for me, because of the rabbi delivering the sermon. This rabbi, Eugene Wernick, was none other than the father of my present rabbi, Steven Wernick of Beth Tzedec Synagogue. He was also the same rabbi who was the rabbi at Shaarey Zedek between 1979-1986 and who had officiated at my father’s funeral in 1981, also a few years later at my oldest son’s Bar Mitzvah in Winnipeg in 1984. As I listened to him speak, I was taken back to the 1980s, when Rabbi Gene was in the pulpit at Shaarey Zedek. Of course, he is older now than in his Shaarey Zedek days, but the power of his voice was unchanged. If anything, it’s even stronger. As in the past, his message was relevant to all of us and resonated well. Listening to him was a treat for me. Still, my regret in not calling out the mistake from the Torah reading was compounded by the fact that I messed up in front of my former rabbi, Eugene Wernick – never mind my present rabbi, Steven Werinck.
On this Shabbat morning, aside from all the other people present, there were not only the two Rabbis Wernick, but one Michelle Wernick was also there. Michelle, daughter of Rabbi Steven Wernick, is a first year student at the Jewish Theological Seminary. She is following in the family business – much like with the Rose rabbinical family in Winnipeg.
As it turned out, there was a Bat Mitzvah that day. And the Bat Mitzvah family had a very real Winnipeg connection as in the former Leah Potash, mother of the Bat Mitzvah girl, Emmie Bank and the daughter of Reuben and Gail Potash (Thau). It occurred to me that there might be a few Winnipeg people in the crowd. As I scanned the first few rows, I was not disappointed. Sitting there was none other than Chana Thau and her husband Michael Eleff. I managed to have a chat with Chana (even during the Musaf service). In the row right behind Chana and Michael was a face I had not seen in close to sixty years. I refer to Allan Berkal, the eldest son of the former rabbi and chazan at Shaarey Zedek, Louis Berkal. I still remember the first time I met Allan at Hebrew School in 1954 when his family moved to Winnipeg from Grand Forks, North Dakota. That was many maftirs ago. So this was another highlight moment for me.
Of course, there are other Winnipeggers who attend Beth Tzedec most Shabbats. I speak of Morley Goldberg and his wife, the former Marcia Billinkoff Schnoor. As well, Bernie Rubenstein and his wife, the former Sheila Levene were also present for this particular Shabbat. In all, this Shabbat had a particularly Winnipeg flavour to it. Truth be told, you do not have to go far in Toronto at any synagogue and the Winnipeg connections emerge.