Forgiving in the Name of: Dignity and Respect

A case for unconditional forgiveness, one that (maybe sneakily) builds on the foundations laid by contemporary philosophers arguing for conditional forgiveness.

Forgiveness is not just rocky terrain; it’s a battleground. Charging the atmosphere is a clash of ideas over whether forgiveness should be conditional or unconditional, with skeptics and advocates alike wielding weapons of reason and conviction. In this spirit, let us invoke the intellectual lightning of discourse, in hopes of illuminating the darkness that stretches over this ideological landscape.

Okay, please pardon my corny (perhaps cringeworthy) attempt at a creative-writing-style introduction. I told you I would be stumbling along the way in this journey—seemingly both in regard to ideas and style. Welcome back.

In a recent Substack-facilitated chat with

Dan Ehrenkrantz

, the topic of conditional vs. unconditional forgiveness came up. Dan noted that, in Judaism, unconditional forgiveness may be found, but it does not seem to be emphasized. Was this omission “a bug or a feature?” he wondered.

I won’t pretend to address that specific question here; but the topic—conditional vs. unconditional forgiveness—reminded me of some engaging conversations that arose in a Restorative Justice class that I co-taught with Erin Kelly in Tufts Philosophy last semester.

For the sake of the story (and to keep consistent with that battleground imagery), let’s say that these conversations were not just engaging, they were downright heated. Fists were pounding on tables; smoke was blowing out of ears; the thunder from that intellectual lightning was echoing through our minds.

The conditions for forgiveness are clear and sensible!, argued some. Forgiveness may be deserved, or undeserved; earned, or left wanting.

But those conditions are rooted in a confused understanding of forgiveness!, argued others (read: me). Call them conditions for reconciliation, but not for forgiveness.

It may be easy to say, “you should forgive for yourself;” but we cannot deny that others were still involved. Forget about being a skeptic, what about being a human?—the harm still hurts; there hasn’t been any justice; and forgiving feels like offering an undeserved gift.¹

In this week’s post, I focus on two contemporary philosophers who have written about conditions required for forgiveness: Charles Griswold and Stephen Darwall.² I then try to use their own words against them (so to speak; it’s a battleground, remember?), to possibly make a case for unconditional forgiveness.

So what are the conditions for forgiveness?

Conditions for Forgiveness

In his book, Forgiveness: A Philosophical Exploration,³ Griswold examines the complex nuances of forgiveness across different conditions, contexts, and philosophical perspectives (both ancient and modern). He notes that, to forgive, the specific context must be considered (similar to the McCullough et al. meta-definition), including the severity of the offense and the intentions behind it.

Griswold goes on to outline six conditions for forgiveness, wherein the wrongdoer must disavow, repudiate, and show regret for the harm, commit to change, understand the victim’s perspective, and provide a context for the offense.

In short, Griswold’s conditions may be summarized as including sincere remorse from the wrongdoer, acknowledgement of the harm caused, and efforts toward restitution or reparations.

Similarly, in The Second-Person Standpoint: Morality, Respect, and Accountability,⁴ Darwall outlines three main conditions for forgiveness:

1. Acknowledgement of the wrongdoing by the wrongdoer (taking responsibility and recognizing the harm caused);

2. Expressing remorse or regret (offering a sincere apology and desire to make amends); and

3. Acceptance of that acknowledgement and remorse by the victim (showing a willingness to let go of resentment and animosity).

Herein lies a glaring problem, however. The conditions for forgiveness, as presented by Griswold and Darwall, are interpersonal in focus. They rely on actions and attitudes well beyond the control of the victim, the to-be-forgiver. The power of healing therefore remains in the hands of the one responsible for the harm in the first place.⁵

I have previously argued that such an interpersonal focus may reflect a confused conflation—that although forgiveness may have interpersonal origins and implications, forgiveness itself is not reconciliation, and therefore should not be dependent on the other.

Instead, from a developmental-science perspective, forgiveness is primarily a within-the-self (intrapersonal) process. One forgives, at least first, to heal oneself from the negative and damaging patterns that follow conflict, harm, trauma, and moral injury.

We forgive to live again.

Relying on interpersonal conditions to forgive comes with a cascade of challenges: What if the one responsible for the harm is an unknown stranger, or is lost to contact, or is deceased? Any opportunities for acknowledgement, remorse, and reparation are forever lost, rendering (conditional) forgiveness impossible. What kind of mental gymnastics would we have to go through in order to meet these conditions and forgive? Must we harbor the anger and resentment forever?

What a Grouch, what a Grinch, what a Scrooge we would become.

Unconditional Forgiveness

Nonetheless, in both Griswold’s and Darwall’s accounts, existential points are made that, when considered through a developmental-science lens, may serve to support a case for unconditional forgiveness.

Developmental science (as is true for all examined life) involves a focus on person and context, and how they influence each other. In their accounts of forgiveness, Griswold and Darwall both offer descriptions of person and context.

Griswold speaks in terms of human nature and the human condition—the world (context) is social and interdependent, yet imperfect and broken; we (persons) are also imperfect and vulnerable, yet worthy of equal dignity and respect. This particular excerpt, summarizing his existential point, has stuck with me for some time:

“Forgiveness is a virtue against the background of a narrative about human nature and its aspirations that accepts imperfection as our lot (in a religious view, our lot absent divine grace, and in a secular view, our lot unalterably). Our interdependence as social and sympathizing creatures; our embodiment and our affective character; our vulnerability to each other; our mortality; our standing to demand respectful treatment from one another, as befits creatures of equal dignity, and our obligations to one another; the pervasiveness of suffering—most often unmerited where it is intentionally inflicted—and of pain, violence, and injustice; these are part and parcel of that imperfection. In short, the context is that of creatures such as ourselves, inescapably rooted in a world that is, so to speak, fractured and threatening. Forgiveness is responsive to the demands of the world so understood, and in a way that helps to enable its possessor to live a good life.”⁶

As Griswold describes it here, it seems that forgiveness may be considered a universal (unconditional?) virtue that allows human flourishing. It involves recognizing our shared humanity and, thus, our shared worthiness of dignity and respect, despite our shared inevitability of erring as we stumble through this inherently imperfect world.

In turn, Darwall delineates two kinds of respect for persons: recognition respect, and appraisal respect.

1. Recognition respect acknowledges the value and equal moral standing of all individuals—that people have inherent worth and dignity in their shared humanity.

2. Appraisal respect recognizes specific qualities and achievements of individuals that may deserve esteem and admiration—that people may earn merit.

It seems that recognition respect is thus also universal (unconditional?). By virtue of being human, we recognize each other’s inherent value. Appraisal respect, on the other hand, is conditional, dependent on one’s character and accomplishments.

In contexts of conflict and harm, however, appraisals become negative. Such negative appraisals may cause us to forget or ignore the Griswoldian nature of our shared imperfections; to forget or ignore the Darwallian idea of our shared inherent worth and value.

In effect, we lose respect. We lose sight of our shared humanity. We dehumanize.

And thus enters our apparent desire, our need, to call for conditions to forgive. Forgiveness, understood this way, is not just a means to heal oneself—it is a means to help us re-humanize the other.

A Case for Optimism

Considering Griswold’s description of the human condition—imperfect persons in an imperfect world—with Darwall’s conception of respect for each other’s inherent dignity and worth, should give us optimism.

Developmental scientists are optimistic because of what we call relative plasticity. Given that human development unfolds in the relations between persons and contexts, we acknowledge that features of the person (such as strengths and agency) and features of the context (such as resources and relationships) can possibly be aligned in adaptive ways.

Like the redemption of the Grinch and of Scrooge; or maybe like Hiccup in How to Train Your Dragon (I have a four-year-old), the misfit troublemaker Viking child who becomes a hero when he finds a supportive dragon-training context for capitalizing on his strengths.

Bear with me—I’m tired and jet-lagged in South Africa—someone help me out with more examples here.

No one person is doomed to a downward path of destruction. And accordingly, no one person should be defined by a fault, a wrong, an imperfection.

In fact, a more transcendent application of Darwall’s two kinds of respect might state that, in recognizing one’s shared humanity and thus inherent dignity and worth (recognition respect), we must also recognize one’s human potential for positive qualities and achievements (appraisal respect). Even following instances of negative appraisal—even after being dehumanized—there may be future qualities and future achievements.

Humans are capable of profound shifts in cognitive, emotional, and behavioral patterns, be they in response to learning or to love. Transformational change is possible.

Thus, forgiving in the name of: human dignity and respect, and the hope for transformational change.⁷

1. Fricker, M. (2022). How is forgiveness always a gift? Presidential address delivered at the 118th Eastern Division meeting of the American Philosophical Association. https://www.mirandafricker.com/uploads/1/3/6/2/136236203/apa-presidential-address_how-is-forgiveness-always-a-gift_2022.pdf

Gschwandtner, C. M. (2023). The gift of forgiveness: Perspectives from the French philosophical tradition. In G. Pettigrove & R. Enright (Eds.), The Routledge handbook of the philosophy and psychology of forgiveness.

As well, in Everett Worthington’s REACH model of forgiveness (to be discussed in a forthcoming post), the A represents the altruistic gift of offering forgiveness offered to the one responsible for harm.

2. In another, longer post, I may dive more deeply into the actual philosophical roots of conditional vs. unconditional forgiveness—for instance, exploring utilitarianism and deontology; blends of virtue ethics with consequentialist and duty-based approaches to forgiveness and its conditions. To do so, I would want to give it the time and space it deserves. I admit that I am not a philosopher, have never been a philosopher, and have never even played one on TV. I will also admit that I am currently in South Africa, jet-lagged and doing field work, but nonetheless striving to stick to my weekly-post resolution.

Thus, the present post, I found some key ideas from these two particular philosophers, Darwall and Griswold, to be particularly interesting to elaborate upon.

3. Griswold, C. L. (2007). Forgiveness: A philosophical exploration. Cambridge University Press.

4. Darwall, S. (2006). The second-person standpoint: Morality, respect, and accountability. Harvard University Press.

See also Darwall, S. L. (1977). Two kinds of respect. Ethics, 88(1), 36-49. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2379993

5. Consider also Bennett, C. (2018). The alteration thesis: Forgiveness as normative power. Philosophy and Public Affairs, 46(2), 207-233. https://doi.org/10.1111/papa.12117

I would get more into the ‘power’ arguments here but, see my confessions in Footnote 2.

6. Griswold, C. L. (2007). Forgiveness: A philosophical exploration. Cambridge University Press. (pp. 14-15)

7. To perhaps age myself, I titled this post after the Rage Against the Machine song, “Killing in the Name,” inspired by police brutality of Rodney King and the LA riots that followed in 1992.

The Restorative Justice (RJ) philosophy class that I mentioned in this post included discussions about the potential role of RJ in response to police brutality as well as other charged topics like sexual assault on campus.