Topics Ethics

Question I'm not specifically sure how to word this question, so please pardon my lack of eloquence. What, if any, moral responsibility do we have to those who had hurt us deeply, say, someone who has cheated on their spouse? Should we forgive and forget? Just forgive but never forget? Ought we treat them normally, or is it ethical to hold a grudge? How does one ethically/morally handle the rest of the relationship, whatever it may be, when one has been significantly betrayed?

Accepted:
August 11, 2010

Comments

A very sensitive and important set of questions! There is some divide among philosophers on this matter at present. Some philosophers (Richard Swinburne, for example) think that you should not forgive someone unless they actually ask for forgiveness, repent, and reform. This seems too extreme, in my view. I had a student who claimed she could never forgive her father for comitting suicide, because her father ceased to be and there could be no reconciliation. That seems too extreme, because even if there is no reconciliation on earth or elsewhere, there are still ways in which one may forgive (not hold a grudge or, worse, not be in a rage about) the one who injured you. Other philosophers (I think this would include Jeffrey Murphy) believe that the injured party can forgive (even without confession and repentance by the one who committed the wrong) but that he / she should not forgive right away. Just taking up the "forgive and forget" role right away may be a reflection that one did not really care deeply about the relationship in the first place. Worse, it may be a reflection that the injured person lacks self-respect and proper pride (as opposed to vanity).

I suggest there might be two types of forgiveness to consider in the situation you describe. One has to do with authentic reconciliation. This, I believe, would involve the person who betrayed the partner confessing, reforming, intending not to betray again and, for the one injured, to welcome him/her back into the relationship and to cease blaiming him/her for the betrayal. This involves a dramatic healing --something I defended in an article published recently under the title "A Shakespearean account of Redemption." Another form of forgiveness involves taking a practical or pragmatic stance --adopting what has been called a modus vivendi. This is the attitude that simply recognizes that faults / wrongs happen, but holds that, all things considered, it is reasonable to accept what is taking place (as well as the past and likely future) and to continue in the relationship for the sake of the good and values that it continues to have.

All in all, check out the way Shakespeare addresses reconciliation in his romantic comedies. I think there is a great deal of wisdom in that work to teach us all in the philosophy of forgiveness but also, perhaps more importantly, for us personally. I make some attempt to get at the nature of a good recovery (or a kind of re-birth) after betrayal in an essay "Shakespeare, Actually" in a book called: Love. Love. Love. And other essyas" (distributed by Rowan and Littlefield); is offers a Shakespearean reading of the movie "Love, Actually." Good wishes to you and yours.

Charles

I wanted to add some remarks on this deep and subtle question, to which Charles has very interestingly responded.

What's at stake here is when, on what grounds, and if, one should grant forgiveness. This is a thorny issue that, I think, goes to the very heart of human relations.

"Forgive them," Christ said,"for they know not what they do." Christ seems here to be advocating that forgiveness should not at all be predicated on any action on the part of the betrayer: this recommendation, however, may be psychologically quite difficult to fulfill. Indeed, in my own experience, I have found that some sort of recognition of wrong is necessary in order for me to grant forgiveness. (Perhaps this simply reflects my own limitations.) As for 'forgiving and forgetting', that, while perhaps an ideal to be aimed at, again seems to be quite difficult to achieve. (It's very difficult to overcome one's own resentment at being wronged. Perhaps this means that it is very difficult genuinely to forgive. NIetzsche speaks to this topic at various points in his writings: for example, in the second essay The Genealogy of Morals.) Indeed, it may be difficult, if not impossible, for human beings not to hold a grudge after being betrayed or wronged by another, in which case, even if one continues in a relationship with the person by whom one has been betrayed, it will go on with a difference. (I would wager that there's been psychological work on this topic: it would be interesting and illuminating to see the results.)

Ought one to forgive? Christ--and Nietzsche--would certainly say so, albeit for very different reasons. I'm not sure, however, that forgiveness can even coherently be demanded of one. It seems to me that whether one forgives the party by whom one has been wronged depends both on the nature of the wrong and the value of the relationship that has been compromised by the wrong. Even if one forgives, however, it is unclear to me that the relationship can ever go on again as it was before the wrong took place. Moreover, there is a question as to whether the relationship should go on as it did before the betrayal: in the Meditations, Descartes says that "it is prudent never to trust completely those who have deceived us even once" (AT VII 18). Descartes's point seems to be that given that one has been betrayed once, one can never be certain that one will not be betrayed again. But of course, even if one has never been betrayed, one surely cannot be certain that one won't at some point be betrayed. The possibility of betrayal seems to me to be internal to the concept of a relationship, and reflects, I think, the inescapable fragility and contingency of human relationships.

In forgiving, one recognizes the value of the relationship in question: it seems to me that the recognition of this value should lead one at least to try to overcome one's resentment at being betrayed, to give up--as much as possible, one's grudge--and, then, to try to remake the relationship anew. (Charles suggested checking out Shakespeare's comedies in this context; you might also check out certain Hollywood movies of the '30's and '40's, which, Stanley Cavell argues in Pursuits of Happiness, treat similar themes as certain Shakespearean comedies and are fundamentally concerned with the question of how to build--and rebuild--relationships. I highly recommend Cavell's book, as well, both for its deep insight into issues of genuine human concern, as well as for its marvelous readings of such films as The Philadelphia Story, It Happened One Night, and Bringing Up Baby, among others.) Indeed, it may well be quite important that one at least try to forgive those by whom one has been wronged, even if one is unable thereby to restore the relationship in question: if one does not forgive, then the wound may fester and eat away at one's very capacity to form meaningful relationships altogether.