The Psychology of Forgiveness
Forgiveness researcher Everett Worthington, in a recent report on the state of forgiveness, wrote that:
A decision to forgive is primarily a decision to try to act differently toward the offender and, not seeking payback, treating the person as a valuable and valued person. Many people struggle with deciding to forgive, but once the decision is made, it is made—like turning on a light. On the other hand, emotional forgiveness is the (usually) gradual replacement of unforgiving emotions like resentment, bitterness, or anger with positive other-oriented emotions like empathy or compassion for the offender. Emotional forgiveness means that unforgiveness gradually lessens until neutrality is reached. Then, with a valuable relationship, one might continue to generate more positive emotions until a net positive feeling is restored. (p. 4)
There are issues with this notion to be sure. While I think Worthington would say that the process of forgiveness can work in a variety of situations, if the experience is pervasive, intentional, or systemic it becomes more complex in my book.
I imagine the process could be similar, just the work is more with our relationship to the experience rather than an external relationship with an abuser, oppressor, or perpetrator. Just because the process is limited by its origin doesn’t mean we should dismiss it outright.
The most interesting aspects of this quote concern the two types of forgiveness. The first deals with a decision to move away from retribution as the primary response, and the second focuses on an internal emotional decision to not let an experience occupy more headspace than it should.
Psychology is often focused on process and processes. It’s focused on movement and change; at least some versions of it are. Process is about relationship; processes are about how relationships form and are maintained throughout life.
The psychological research into forgiveness is new, about 20-25 years old. It primarily focuses on the efficacy of a couple different forgiveness processes. It’s largely a western area of study, although I think there is some attempt to expand it. However, it’s primarily focused on an individual’s capacity to forgive.
What’s missing in my book is the research into an ethos or culture of forgiveness.
Not just how do we do it, but what does it truly mean to forgive? How do we co-create a world that is hell bent on restoration rather than retribution? And, for that, there are just too few psychological answers.
Last week, my daughter’s school went into lockdown. Not a drill, mind you, full lock down. They were swatted. A caller dialed 911, said they were a teacher, and that 24 kids had already been shot at the school.
I received the following text at 2 o’clock that afternoon. “There’s a lockdown happening. That may be real… There’s so many police.” My daughter huddled in a corner with another girl in her class, wondering if violence would come and find them.
Forgiveness was the last thing on my mind at that moment. My daughter, my first born. The one I drive to dance twice a week and ask about her homework and watch Marvel movies with, was threatened by a cowardly piece of shit who thought this was an appropriate prank (they also swatted four other schools in Colorado).
My first thought, if they ever catch them, I hope they line them up so that every parent can walk by and give them a swift kick in a sensitive place…
That’s it, no restoration, no desire for relationship, no want for healing or anything else. You threaten my kid, I make sure you have none of your own. Is that a cultural thing? Something that Americans do because we’re raised to think that retribution is the acceptable response?
I have no idea. I was just scared and angry and anxious for my kid. Something she felt the next day as well. How do you reconcile psychology with philosophy with theology? I’m not sure to tell you the truth.
I didn’t want a process, I wanted a result. I wanted resolution, not restoration. I wanted them to feel the pain I felt. But, as I reflected, I realized what I wanted more was a world where my daughter could attend school without fear for her life. A world where I wouldn’t fear her leaving in the morning.
That’s the kicker with the psychological study of forgiveness, it’s a one-to-one process. It generally has nothing to do with systemic work or an ethos or a culture of forgiveness. That’s the limit I’ve run up against in my studies.
We want forgiveness for the clear mind and heart it gives us. We want it to be an emotional palate cleanser. We want it for me, for I, for my experience.
I’m not sure that will work on a systemic level. I’m sure as hell not ready to forgive the person who made my daughter’s world unsafe and unsecure.
And, I know. That’s the life of so many of our children and youth. It’s the life of persons of color, persons with any sort of diversity outside of our heteronormative, white male performative culture. Speaking as “the man” I’ve known this in theory and empathized with those who experience it in their lives. It is a part of my privilege that this is one of the first times I’ve felt this in my life.
At the same time, the truth remains. The psychology of forgiveness often focuses solely on the individual. It doesn’t move easily to systemic spaces. The struggle with that is that healing is often found in relational spaces. Individuals cannot change systemic spaces. Communities can though. And unless we make forgiveness a hallmark of our social psychology and culture, it won’t have much impact beyond the clinic.
So, what’s the good news here? Well, those individual processes seem to work. They bear good fruit. They can be meaningful paths to exploring what healing looks like from the emotional point of view. We can take some solace in that research. There are also other projects in the works to better understand what forgiveness looks like in the wild.
We’ve spent this month looking at forgiveness from biblical, theological, relational, and now psychological perspectives. It’s important because it’s often missing. Living without it is letting a perpetrator live in your head rent free.
There are tensions here to be sure. There are relationships where seeking face-to-face forgiveness may cause more harm than good.
At the same time, we have to find relief. Without it our bodies will hold that trauma. The pain will endure if we can’t find healthy ways to release it into the wild.
Deconstruction will become demolition.
There’s a part of me that would never want to give someone who inflicted harm the satisfaction of destroying an identity that I hold meaningful.