The concept of forgiveness is deeply ingrained in American culture, often presented as a moral imperative and the key to healing. Yet, a relentless focus on forgiveness can obscure the realities of harm, unfairly burden victims, and overshadow the need for accountability. Philosopher Myisha Cherry challenges this cultural obsession in her recent book, Failures of Forgiveness, arguing that anger is not a flaw, but a vital moral emotion that demands recognition and respect.
The Idolization of Forgiveness
Cherry describes how American society tends to idolize forgiveness – treating it as a cure-all for pain, a magical solution that restores relationships and erases the past. This perspective places undue pressure on those who have been harmed, suggesting that their healing depends on their ability to forgive. However, this approach overlooks a fundamental truth: forgiveness cannot undo what has happened. The past leaves lasting marks, and sometimes, reconciliation simply isn’t possible.
The problem isn’t that forgiveness is weak; it’s that we give it too much power. When forgiveness becomes the central focus, it can absolve wrongdoers and the wider community of their responsibilities. It implies that if victims forgive, then everyone else is off the hook.
Anger as a Moral Compass
Cherry argues that anger is not merely a failure of self-control but a legitimate and moral emotion. It signals injustice, affirms value, and demands accountability. Consider the response to the Charleston church shooting in 2015, where family members of the victims expressed their intention to forgive the perpetrator. While their choice is valid, the ensuing media celebration of their forgiveness overshadowed the systemic issues of racial terror and white supremacy that fueled the violence.
Anger is an investment. You cannot be angry at someone you do not care about. Anger expresses judgment, value, and a call for better behavior. It is a necessary emotion for justice and solidarity.
The Limits of Forgiveness
Cherry emphasizes that forgiveness does not erase harm. It may help someone imagine a different future, but it cannot replace accountability or justice. She distinguishes anger from hatred, explaining that anger expresses judgment, while hatred often involves wishing harm upon another person.
You can forgive someone and still be angry with them. Forgiveness doesn’t require abandoning righteous indignation; it requires releasing hatred and the desire for revenge. Anger can remain because it truthfully reflects the depth of the harm.
Repair Without Forgiveness
In a nation grappling with a brutal history of slavery and ongoing systemic injustice, the question of collective forgiveness becomes fraught with difficulty. Cherry points out that true repair requires truth-telling, accountability, and structural change, none of which can be achieved through forgiveness alone.
Asking someone to forgive ongoing harm is like asking them to forgive someone while still being stabbed. Forgiveness is not even on the table until the harm stops.
A Balanced Approach
Cherry concludes that forgiveness is a tool, not a universal necessity. Other paths to healing exist – therapy, community support, and systemic reform. She challenges the notion that forgiveness is always virtuous, arguing that refusing to forgive is not inherently immoral. The key lies in finding the right balance for the right reasons.
Ultimately, forgiveness should not be treated as the only route to repair. If forgiveness were essential for healing, those who cannot forgive would be left without hope, which is simply untrue. We can build futures with a multitude of tools, and anger, when channeled constructively, can be one of the most powerful among them.
