Forgiveness

If we do not speak to machines, then we cannot accept causal explanations from interlocutors. If someone has become abusive because they have been abused, I can accept this as an explanation but not as a reason. A reason is a justification for a behaviour, not an explanation of how the behaviour arose. We can confuse these – and sometimes it is harmless to confuse them. But sometimes it is not.

For me to forgive someone, I must understand their reasons for their behaviour, and not just its ‘causes’. They must tell me why it felt right to them, at least at the time, to do what they did. If they are unable to do this, I can have no grounds for forgiveness.

I may even feel compassionate towards them, but only in the way one might feel compassion for a dangerous beast that must be controlled to prevent it doing harm. I do not forgive the beast – it cannot ask for forgiveness!

Forgiveness is something that takes place within a conversation, where choices are attributed and reasons are given. If the conversation is impossible, then what can ‘forgiveness’ mean?

I might say to you ‘I forgive my parents’, but what does this mean about my relationship with them? If I ‘say’ it to them, if I mouth the words, what can these 'words' mean if we cannot have a real conversation about what they did – a conversation that includes recognition, reasons, truth.

Perhaps it can be comforting to imagine such a conversation, to have a private talk with oneself. But how can we know what we are doing here? Where would such 'private' talk find its meaning?