The brain drain

The current boogeyman with which to frighten Israeli children is the ominous “brain drain.”

Is there one? And if so, should we be frightened by it?

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Start with the first question. Yes, there is an emigration from Israel, and naturally, some immigrants have graduate degrees. I don’t think that necessarily makes them “brains,” but that’s a different issue.

The problem is that dealing with emigration numbers is problematic because of the possibility of using several different definitions. For example, according to the Central Bureau of Statistics, someone who leaves the country for three months is called an emigrant, but only someone who has lived in the country for more than three years is counted as an immigrant. Another problem is that the measure of emigration is done in absolute numbers, not in the percentage of the population. This gives a skewed feeling of the situation.

In 1990, 4.8 million people lived in Israel. Today, that number has exceeded 10 million. The average annual emigration in the 2010-20 decade was 60,000 people. For 2023-26, the average annual emigration is 90,000 people per year. That looks like a 50% increase. But as a percentage, between the years 2010-20, the annual emigration was 0.7% of the population, and in 2023-26, 1% of the population. This is a rather moderate change given the three-year state of war.

If considering percentages of population rather than absolute numbers, we discover some astounding facts. During the first and second waves of modern Jewish immigration to then-Ottoman-occupied land (1882 to 1914), the percentage of emigrants was about 40%. Really scary! The famous Biluim (members of Bilu, a pioneering 19th-century movement of Russian Jews founded in 1882), after whom so many streets and institutions in Israel are named, had a disastrous 80% emigration rate. Only about Biluim remained in the country.

So, what about that “brain drain”? The job opportunities for those with a Ph.D. degree in Israel are meagre. Every year, roughly 2,000 people receive doctorates in Israel. But the natural turnover of faculty members means that there are only about 200 new jobs in universities each year. In other words, only 10% of those with a Ph.D. will find work in Israeli universities. Some of the unlucky ones, who did not get a university position, stay in Israel and do not continue their research. Others go on to do research at universities abroad.

If the top 10% actually stay in Israel, then this cannot rightly be called a “brain drain” because these “brains” cannot be utilized here anyway. Indeed, most of the top graduates stay in Israel, but not all.

When I was a postdoc at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology 40-plus years ago, a colleague, also an Israeli postdoc, told me: “We are not citizens of a particular country. Science is our queen, and we have to go to a place where we can do science in the best possible way.” He has remained in the United States to this day.

Another colleague moved to a university in the United States because there is no legal retirement age; so technically, those with tenure can continue to work until the day they die. About a decade before he reached retirement age in Israel, he emigrated because he wants to “die in the office.” Of the 10 Nobel Prizes in the sciences received by Israelis (not including three peace prizes and one in literature), three received the prize for research they conducted at universities abroad.

So, the motive of each person’s emigration, whether they are a “brain” or not, is the principle that guides their lives.

I was a tenured professor at Georgia Tech, whose College of Computing is one of the best in the world. As soon as my wife finished her fellowship in Pediatric Emergency Medicine, we returned to Israel. Both financially and professionally, the United States was better for us. Moreover, as a religious person, the atmosphere on the Israeli street wasn’t so attractive to me—the public spaces are too secular and woke. For example, the Tel Aviv mayor forbade praying in the streets on Yom Kippur. In other words, it was not the ideal Jewish society.

Nevertheless, what motivated our return home was the desire to contribute to the people and to the land.

As the baraita says in Tractate Ketubot (110b): “A person should always dwell in Eretz Yisrael, even in a city that is mostly idol worshippers, rather than dwell abroad, and even in a city that is predominantly Israel, for one who resides in Eretz Israel is like one who has a God, and one who resides outside the land is as if he has no God.” In other words, the value of living in the land of Israel, even if the environment, culture and neighbors may not be to our liking, outweighs spiritual and physical comfort outside the country.

The conclusion is that there were always people who left the country, whether “brains” or not. They had their reasons. Sometimes, the percentage of immigrants was really worrying (40% in the First and Second Aliyot), and sometimes, less so (1% these days).

Another phenomenon that exists is aliyah. These days, for example, extreme antisemitism abroad is driving Jews to Israel. In the past two years, about 1,000 medical doctors have immigrated. Even if 30% of the brains emigrate, the remaining 70% of the brains will continue to contribute to the Zionist enterprise.

I believe that anyone who wants to leave the country—whether for financial, personal safety, scientific, ideological or other reasons—should do so. It’s better that they don’t discourage or impede those who are engaged in the positive work.

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