Thoughts On Forgiveness And Accountability

Since I was young, I’ve taken pride in my ability to forgive (I promise I’m not full of it, please continue on). Now, reading that sentence over again, it’s easy to think that I must hold my own self in high esteem, or that I must be so very smug. But that is very much not the case - because I am so hyper-cognizant of the fallibility of myself so that when I am wronged, I cannot help but project that onto the actions of others, always asking myself what I would do in any situation, and then assuming I would take that harmful path as well (…but for the grace of God…). 

This has led to to times wherein I am quick to “let it go”, whether or not the person who wronged me has even expressed a base level of remorse. I believed that in forgiving, in turning the proverbial cheek (to paraphrase the religious tradition I was raised in), I could rise above the pain and somehow make myself whole without any effort from the other party. There was solace in being able to do that, in exercising self control—whether only perceived, not actual— and moving beyond the conflict, incident, pattern of hurt. Heck, sometimes I even believe that I’m OK, and not pushing a ball of anger and resentment down and hoping it doesn’t burst forth as inopportunely-timed tears in public.

And we see that expectation of complete and total forgiveness expressed in much of the discourse now: why can’t we just “move on” already?

But a recent Vox Conversations interview with my favorite Twitter Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg (“How do we fix the harm we cause?”) touched on something that isn’t as deified in our culture as instant forgiveness is: the very hard work that goes into truly making amends after causing harm - and how difficult it is to create a culture of accountability and repairing.

Last night was Kol Nidre and I finish writing this on the morning of Yom Kippur, the culmination of the “days of awe” in the Jewish tradition in which we make a deep accounting of our lives, make amends as needed, and approach the next year of life with a blank slate, in the hopes of beginning again and getting another chance to be the best we can be. Making amends takes many forms, both humorous and serious, from Colbert’s “Atone Phone” to deep soul searching and action, like the 12 steps, which depends on the perpetrator of wrongs recognizing and acknowledging what they’ve done, and then seeking to rectify it and ensuring it doesn’t happen again.

As the podcast discusses, there’s a lot of talk right now about “cancel culture” and whether or not it has “gone too far”. And in discussing demands for “moving on” and allowing sexually harassing comics and other very public downfalls to once again reach their pre-scandal supremacy, Ruttenberg observes, a lot of those calls for “moving on” do not take into account whether or not true atonement has been attempted.

I won’t just parrot the pod back at you, but in describing what makes true amends different from a pat apology and expectation of forgiveness, Ruttenberg reminds us that it’s not a notes app apology or sad tweet that is important, it’s the hard introspection and work that must follow any recognition and confession of guilt. 

So why do we as a society put a burden of forgiveness on those harmed without truly investing in ensuring the perpetrator of wrong is held accountable?

Because it’s hard, and because holding someone accountable for the wrong they’ve done involves taking a hard look at the circumstances. And don’t we all want to be able to say “I’m sorry” without actually needing to change? The flip side of my quick forgiveness is my knee jerk tendency to apologize without recognizing the harm I may be committing, all in the hopes of avoiding a blow up and calming a situation. I forgive quickly because I hope others will do the same, and not hold me accountable for the habits and actions that caused me to harm in the first place.

True atonement isn’t going back to how it was before, a “my bad” followed by a return to normal, it’s the changing of thinking, patterns, behavior and systems that led to the wrong in the first place. And that’s really fucking hard to do without smashing the status quo and, in this year of our late stage capitalism, messing with the money train (looking at you, abusive and polluting companies pulling a greenwashed blanket around your shoulders and calling it ESG). And if an apology does not recognize, as Ruttenberg describes, what is needed by the harmed in order to be whole, what kind of repentance is it, really?

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that my misplaced pride in forgiveness may actually be a fear of conflict, or an inability to articulate the needs or boundaries I require from relationships. Because without that self reflection, accepting an apology and granting forgiveness is just a salve on a wound that is still open, and a return to a harmful status quo.

So in this new year, I strive for reflection, acknowledgement of hard truths, and higher expectations for myself and my community.

If you are observing today, may your fast be easy and may your dinner be delicious. And may we all reflect on how we can personally repair and return.

xoxo Amy