Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Self Forgiveness
Self Forgiveness
Self Forgiveness
Author(s): by Robin S. Dillon
Source: Ethics, Vol. 112, No. 1 (October 2001), pp. 53-83
Published by: The University of Chicago Press
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1086/339140 .
Accessed: 23/06/2014 07:33
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .
http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp
.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of
content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms
of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
The University of Chicago Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Ethics.
http://www.jstor.org
Robin S. Dillon
Thirty years later, Alison still recalls an episode in her teens, not
frequently, but often enough, and always with something akin to
self-loathing. There was this girl, Dana, someone Alison had been
friends with in middle school, though they’d drifted apart. Dana
was nice and smart and funny, and she was deformed (maybe
thalidomide, Alison now thinks). That hadn’t mattered to Alison
when they were younger, but it was a big deal to her high school
friends. They made up mocking songs and dances and made fun
of Dana in the halls. Alison never sang the songs or danced the
dances, and she told her friends to stop it when they ridiculed
Dana. But she has always known to her deep shame that she was
not guilt-free—she knows she was too cowardly and too needy of
acceptance to stand up for Dana, to make her friends stop tor-
menting, to stop being friends with tormentors, and she knows
that she did laugh. After all these years, Alison can’t forgive herself
for Dana. Nor is she sure that she should—how could a self-re-
specting person be at peace with herself about something like this?
Recurrent self-reproach reminds Alison of things she wants not to
forget.
I
To someone concerned with self-respect, self-forgiveness can seem puz-
zling. On the one hand, while forgiving another person for wronging
you can seem virtuous, even saintly, forgiving yourself for wronging
another seems a self-indulgent cheat, an attempt to feel good about
yourself that betrays a failure of responsibility and a lack of self-respect.
On the other hand, self-loathing and interminable self-punishment for
some long-past wrong seems incompatible with respect for yourself as
a being with the intrinsic worth Kant called “dignity,” so overcoming
53
II
Sometimes forgiving another is easy: someone hurts or offends you, you
get upset, they apologize, you forgive, over and done. But forgiveness
is usually thought to be hard, to involve overcoming brooding anger or
hatred, harsh thoughts, the desire for vengeance. So it is with self-
forgiveness. Let me begin with the hard kind, which most accounts treat
as an intentional transformation in one’s attitudes toward oneself, over-
coming one kind of stance toward the self and taking up a different
one, and doing so for certain reasons. One of the richest accounts of
what I’ll call ‘transformational self-forgiveness’ is offered by Margaret
Holmgren.1 Because it gives a prominent place to self-respect and elu-
cidates what a self-respecting person must do to prepare to forgive her-
self, yet leaves unanswered some important questions, it will be useful
to look at it. Drawing on Butler’s familiar discussion of interpersonal
2. In Sermon VIII, “Upon Resentment,” and Sermon IX, “Upon Forgiveness of In-
juries,” of Fifteen Sermons Preached at the Rolls Chapel, 1722, in The Works of Joseph Butler, ed.
W. E. Gladstone (Oxford: Clarendon; New York: Macmillan, 1896), vol. 2, Sermons, Etc.
Although she looks to Butler for the basic definition of forgiveness, Holmgren, like others,
misinterprets his account. She takes Butler to define forgiveness as the forswearing or
overcoming of resentment (“Self-Forgiveness,” pp. 75, 76, and “Forgiveness,” p. 341), and
she takes this to mean relinquishing (or at least, working to eliminate) all negative emotions
and judgments about the offender (“Forgiveness,” pp. 342, 345, and “Self-Forgiveness,”
pp. 79, 86, 90). This reading takes resentment and similar emotions to be incompatible
with the attitudes of goodwill and respect that forgiveness is supposed to yield, so that
the former must be swept away to make room for the latter. But Butler does not define
forgiveness as the elimination of resentment and he does not think that resentment is
incompatible with an attitude of goodwill. Holmgren quotes this passage as explicating
Butler’s definition of forgiveness: to forgive another is “to be affected towards the injurious
person in the same way any good men, uninterested in the case, would be; if they had
the same just sense, which we have supposed the injured person to have, of the fault:
after which there will yet remain real good-will toward the offender” (Sermon IX, pp.
160–61). Note that Butler doesn’t say that an uninterested good man would feel no
resentment on viewing the fault. Butler maintains that the Biblical precepts to forgive and
to love our enemies (his text for both sermons is Matt. 5:43–44) do not enjoin the elim-
ination of resentment; rather, they “forbid only the excess and abuse of this natural feeling,
in cases of personal and private injury” (Sermon IX, p. 152). For resentment—both hasty
and sudden anger (passion) and settled and deliberate anger (resentment proper) oc-
casioned by having been wrongly injured by another person (Sermon VIII, pp. 138–44)—is,
Butler argues in Sermon VIII, given to us by God to prevent and remedy the evil and
pain of injury by others, and so it is both ineliminable from our nature and conditionally
good. What is bad and to be eliminated are the abuses and excesses of resentment: when
the injury is only imagined or is exaggerated, when the anger is mistakenly directed at
an innocent person or is disproportionate to the injury, or when it is malicious or prompts
revenge. But “resentment is not inconsistent with good-will; we very often see both together
in very high degrees; not only in parents toward children, but in cases of friendship and
dependence. . . . These contrary passions, though they may lessen, do not necessarily
destroy each other. We may therefore love our enemy, and yet have resentment toward
him for his injurious behaviour towards us. But when this resentment entirely destroys
our natural benevolence towards him, it is excessive, and becomes malice or revenge. The
command to prevent its having this effect, i.e., to forgive injuries, is the same as to love
our enemies” (Sermon IX, p. 158). Forgiveness is thus not the elimination of resentment
but the control of it, preventing it from becoming excessive, unjustified, or malicious. It
is worth noting that “overcome” can mean either to eliminate something altogether (as
in the Civil Rights Movement determination that “We Shall Overcome” racial prejudice
and discrimination) or to not let it cripple one (as a person might overcome a physical
handicap). Holmgren takes Butler’s account in the former way when he intends the latter.
This point will become important later in this article.
III
We can begin to develop a better understanding of transformational
self-forgiveness by first getting clearer about the negative stance toward
the self that it would overcome, how self-respect is involved in it, and
why it might be desirable or morally important to overcome it.
The emphasis in Holmgren’s account is on feelings such as guilt,
self-hatred, and self-contempt arising from the recognition that one did
something wrong. Genuinely forgiving ourselves is said to be how we
resolve our wrongdoing. The first thing to note, then, is that doing
wrong is not sufficient to call for forgiveness.8 For if one doesn’t call it
wrong, or isn’t bothered by it, or is bothered but gets over it, the need
to forgive oneself doesn’t arise. Self-reproach is required.9 Although
Rachel Price, in Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible, knows that
some people might blame her for the tragic death of her baby sister
years before, “I ask myself, did I have anything to do with it? The answer
is no. I’ve made up my mind all along to just rise above it. . . . I refuse
8. Oddly, this fact seems to be missed in many discussions. For example, Snow says
explicitly and Holmgren (“Self-Forgiveness”) implies that self-forgiveness is required when-
ever one does (serious) wrong, while Flanagan presents numerous cases of people who
have done wrong but whose own responses to their wrongs we do not see and says of
them that they will have to forgive themselves. It is true that wrongdoers are morally
required to take responsibility for their wrong, but, as I argue below, it is not true that
they need, morally or psychologically, to forgive themselves. It is also interesting to note
a difference in how “wrongdoing” is treated in the literature on forgiveness of self and
others. Some writers, e.g., Snow, Holmgren, and Flanagan, treat it as a matter of error,
carelessness, or human finitude and limitations. Others, e.g., Calhoun and Jeffrie Murphy,
focus on evil, nastiness, dreadful character, distorted values, shameful lapses of personal
integrity ( Jeffrie Murphy, “Jean Hampton on Immorality, Self-Hatred, and Self-Forgive-
ness,” Philosophical Studies 89 [1998]: 215–36).
9. I will use the term ‘self-reproach’ to characterize the central attitude in the negative
stance most generally, recognizing that there is in fact a continuum of stances that might
arise from recognizing that one is responsible for something terrible, wrong, or awry,
ranging from mildly self-critical to ragingly self-condemning, for a short time to a lifetime.
I think we talk about forgiving or not forgiving ourselves when the attitudes and other
dimensions of the stance are more strongly negative and persistent, but I don’t rule out
the relevance of transformative self-forgiveness to milder cases.
10. Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible (New York: HarperCollins, 1998), p. 465.
We might think that multiple denial is significant, but not (yet?) for self-forgiveness.
11. One might object that (transformational) forgiveness is distinctively tied to wrong-
doing: as we don’t forgive other people for being bad or for having done something that
reveals badness of character but only for the wrong they’ve done us, so we can’t forgive
ourselves for being bad, only for doing wrong. That objection is mistaken on both counts.
It makes perfect sense, for example, for someone to decide to forgive her parent for
having been too self-centered to really love her as she was growing up, which is not a
matter just of action or even pattern of action. The real complaint is about the parent’s
character, values, priorities, motivations, etc. Nor is overcoming reproach in cases like
these a matter of acceptance rather than forgiveness, for the former is compatible with
condonation, while forgiveness requires clear-sighted acknowledgment of the wrong or
bad. Jean Hampton convincingly analyzes (transformational) forgiveness as essentially
involving a “change of heart,” which is a matter of overcoming what she calls “moral
hatred,” which, unlike resentment and indignation, which, she argues, are directed at the
action, is directed at the person who harmed one and involves the belief that the person
is bad. As she says, “The forgiver who previously saw the wrongdoer as someone bad or
rotten or morally indecent to some degree has a change of heart when he ‘washes away’
or disregards the wrongdoer’s immoral actions or character traits in his ultimate moral
judgment of her, and comes to see her as still decent, not rotten as a person” (“Forgiveness,
Resentment, and Hatred,” in Forgiveness and Mercy, by Jeffrie G. Murphy and Jean Hampton
[New York: Cambridge University Press, 1988], p. 83; author’s emphasis). Though wrong-
doing may sometimes, maybe even typically, be the source of the negative stance that
forgiveness overcomes, its object is the person as the kind of person who could do that.
When we forgive others, we forgive them for being that kind of person, and that’s part
of why forgiveness is hard. So, too, for self-forgiveness. I return to this point below.
12. Kingsolver, p. 89.
13. Ibid., p. 493.
14. Ibid.
15. Letter to “Dear Abby,” “Woman’s Death Consumes Friend Whose Words Fail,”
Allentown (Pa.) Morning Call (June 28, 2000). “I am still consumed with guilt for having
concealed the truth from my friend. I am nervous all the time and have trouble concen-
trating and sleeping . . . the depression overwhelms me.” Abby unhelpfully reassures
“Grieving in L.A.” that she should not blame herself since she did what the family said
she must do.
16. Letter to “Dear Abby,” “Toddler’s Accidental Death Ends Someone Else’s Life as
Well,” Allentown (Pa.) Morning Call (July 18, 2000). “My best friend accidentally backed
her car over my [two-year-old] sister, killing her instantly. . . . My family recovered from
my sister’s death, but my friend never did. The accident ruined her life. She had been
at the top of her class and everyone expected a bright future for her. Instead, she lived
through failed counseling, broken marriages, and her career crashed—all because of a
tragic accident that wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t forgive herself.”
17. “Nowhere Is Safe in Kosovo,” Allentown (Pa.) Morning Call (August 13, 1998).
When Serbs attacked the Albanian village of Rezala, Yugoslavia, Zequir Zabeli, his wife
and four children had to make a painful choice. They could carry his 85-year-old mother
Hana, who was speechless and paralyzed from a stroke, “through a rain of artillery and
mortar fire, risking death for all in a slow escape. Or they could leave her behind, run
away unburdened and pray for her survival.” They chose to run, and Hana died alone.
“The Serbs attacked so fast we had no time to think how to evacuate my mother to safety.
. . . I got my wife and children out. . . . We ran. It is a choice I will have to live with.”
18. One might object that where there is no wrong, the self-reproachful feelings are
unfounded and “the process of removing them is different from the process of attaining
genuine self-forgiveness” (Holmgren, “Self-Forgiveness,” p. 76). But in fact we do speak
of not being able to forgive ourselves in cases like these, and I follow Herbert Morris and
Jeffrie Murphy in, as Morris says, “being skeptical about any claim of widespread misuse
of terms for emotional states” and, as Murphy says, “resist(ing) regarding the feeling [self-
hatred even when one has done nothing wrong] as merely inappropriate or irrational or
neurotic.” Both explain the moral appropriateness of such feelings in terms of the “feelings
of human solidarity” they express. I explain them below in terms of the structure of one’s
normative self-conception. See Herbert Morris, “Nonmoral Guilt,” in Responsibility, Char-
acter, and the Emotions, ed. Ferdinand Schoeman (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1987), p. 221; and Murphy, “Jean Hampton,” p. 229. The cases in the previous two par-
agraphs underscore a general point about forgiveness and reproach. If one’s paradigm
for forgiveness is the legal model, then one will think forgiveness applies only in cases of
wrongdoing. But everyday talk about forgiving and not forgiving ourselves and others
makes it clear that it is not so restricted, and thus that the legal model is not an appropriate
28. As Helen Lewis argues, guilt involves blaming one’s behavior for a bad event, but
shame involves blaming one’s character. Helen B. Lewis, Shame: The Exposed Self (New York:
Free Press, 1992).
29. Thus, wrongs one can regard as “out of character” are less damaging to one’s
self-conception.
30. Flanagan, pp. xix, xii.
31. It is common in discussions of (self-)forgiveness to make the Augustinian move
of arguing that although the act may be morally wrong, the agent can be separated from
the act and seen as untainted by it and thereby forgiven (though repentance might be
required for the separation and so for forgiveness). However, the self-reproachful stance
rejects this move, for it is not the act that it focuses on but the inescapable defective self
that is not supposed to be defective.
32. H. J. N. Horsbrugh, “Forgiveness,” Canadian Journal of Philosophy 4 (1974): 269–82,
p. 276.
IV
Although it is commonly taken to be a discrete belief or attitude, self-
respect is in fact a complex of multilayered and interpenetrating phe-
nomena—all those aspects of cognition, valuation, affect, expectation,
motivation, action, and interaction that compose a mode of being in
the world whose heart is an appreciation of oneself as having morally
significant worth. In the Western tradition, two kinds of morally signif-
icant worth are chiefly ascribed to persons, which makes for the first
two of three kinds of self-respect. What I call “status worth” derives from
such things as one’s social role or place, membership in a group or a
people, or essential nature. Recognition self-respect centers on status
worth.38 Respect for oneself as a being with the dignity that, on the
39. I take this term from Stephen D. Hudson, “The Nature of Respect,” Social Theory
and Practice 6 (1980): 69–90. Darwall’s term is ‘appraisal self-respect’.
40. On “coming up to scratch,” see Elizabeth Telfer, “Self-Respect,” Philosophical Quar-
terly 18 (1968): 114–21.
41. I use this term, instead of Freud’s “ego-ideal,” because the latter term implies that
the conception is composed of or dominated by ideas about excellence and a commitment
to become excellent. But our normative self-conceptions also contain ideas and expec-
tations of acceptability and decency, as well as ideas of inadequacy and defectiveness and
a determination not to get too close, and these come into play in self-reproach.
42. The phrase comes from David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. L. A. Selby-
Bigge (Oxford: Clarendon, 1971), p. 620.
43. In “Self-Respect, Excellences, and Shame,” in A Theory of Justice (Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard University Press, 1971), sec. 67, John Rawls holds that shame arises from the
perception that one has failed to live up to one’s standards of excellence. But this is
mistaken. We are not ashamed of ourselves for not being excellent; rather, we are ashamed
of ourselves for being less than the least we expect ourselves to be. Of course, if one
expects nothing less than excellence from oneself, one will then, but only then, be ashamed
for falling short of excellence. Arguing that “it is not so much the distance from an ideal
self but closeness to the ‘undesired self’ that is crucial to shame,” psychologist Paul Gilbert
reports a study that found participants talking not about failing to live up to ideals but
about being who they did not want to be (p. 19).
44. One’s normative standards need not be moral in any narrow sense or reasonable
to be powerful, nor need they allow for excused violation. If they include, for example,
“good daughters always care for their mothers as their mothers cared for them,” then
putting one’s aged mother in a nursing home, even when one cannot care for her any
V
Returning to the negative stance that transformative self-forgiveness
might overcome, we saw that it arises when self-respect is seriously dam-
aged because one was confronted with one’s “self-as-feared” and now
worries or believes that one really is that reprehensible self instead of
the decent person one had been used to thinking one was. I had asked,
which kind of self-respect is implicated in this stance? We can now answer
that question.
The negative stance is an evaluative one; it expresses the loss of
evaluative self-respect arising from the perception of oneself as less wor-
longer and she would get very good care in the home, could appropriately generate shame
and self-reproach. Let me note here that I do not address an important issue, namely,
that our self-conceptions are not wholly self-generated but are to a great extent socialized
into us. An adequate account of self-reproach would have to take seriously the distortions
of self-identity and self-reproach under oppression.
45. Whereas recognition self-respect expresses, “I matter because I am a person,” and
evaluative self-respect expresses, “I matter because I have merit,” basal self-respect expresses
simply, “I matter.”
48. Immanuel Kant, The Doctrine of Virtue: Part II of the Metaphysics of Morals, trans.
Mary J. Gregor (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1964), p. 132 (Akademie,
p. 463).
49. I take this example from M. H. Bickhard, “The Nature of Psychopathology,” in
International Psychotherapy: Theories, Research, and Cross-Cultural Implications, ed. Lynn Simek-
Downing (New York: Praeger, 1989).
VI
Two more questions now arise. First, why might someone be vulnerable
to unwarranted self-reproach and distorted self-punishment? One an-
swer is that dimensions of self-valuing may already be so fragile that they
are destroyed by the encounter with the “self-as-feared.” If this is true
at the basal level, amelioration may not be possible, given the relation
50. Kant maintains that a feeling of “reverence for oneself” is one of the subjective
conditions for the possibility of moral agency—did we not experience it, we “could not
even conceive of duty” (Doctrine of Virtue, pp. 59, 63 [Akademie, pp. 399, 402–30]). Rep-
resenting oneself to oneself as irredeemably bad and so forever unworthy would thus make
it impossible to discharge the duties of self-respect, or indeed any moral duties.
51. I discuss this in “Self-Respect: Moral, Emotional, Political.” Whereas insecure basal
valuing can be a source of the liability to unwarranted self-reproach, secure basal valuing
can provide immunity to even warranted self-reproach: someone whose wrongs are fully
in character can regard them instead as flukes or bad luck—again and again—if they have
a strongly positive and secure basal sense of worth that underwrites this interpretation of
the data.
52. This form of self-forgiveness corresponds to another common usage of the term
“forgiving,” as providing a margin for error or shortcoming (American Heritage Dictionary,
4th ed.). As a laminate kitchen countertop is forgiving, while granite is unforgiving—a
dropped glass might bounce on the former but will shatter on the latter—so one can be
a forgiving person, of oneself or of others: less likely to condemn in the first place and
so less likely to need to overcome it.
53. The phrase is Paul Hughes’s in “On Forgiving Oneself: A Reply to Snow,” Journal
of Value Inquiry 28 (1994): 557–60.
54. Reflecting on the wide and deep damage wrought by her missionary father’s
raging condemnation of himself, his family, and the African villagers he meant to save
from hell—a condemnation rooted in “a suspicion of his own cowardice” that formed
when he stumbled from the jungle just before the rest of his company died to a man on
the Bataan Death March (“Fate sentenced Our Father to pay for those lives with the
remainder of his, and he has spent it posturing desperately beneath the eyes of a God
who will not forgive a debt”), Orleanna’s daughter Leah says, “If I could reach back
somehow to give Father just one gift, it would be the simple human relief of knowing
you’ve done wrong, and living through it” (Kingsolver, pp. 197, 413, 525).
55. I discuss such a form of self-respect in “Toward a Feminist Conception of Self-
Respect,” though I did not there make the connection with self-forgiveness.
VII
Returning to transformative self-forgiveness—having characterized the
negative stance more fully, we must now address two questions. First,
when self-punishing self-reproach infuses one’s life, how can one over-
come it? Second, what is the outcome achieved in self-forgiveness?
Let us take the second question first. Because the condition that
gives rise to any plausible need to forgive oneself is centrally charac-
terized by damaged self-respect, I would argue that transformative self-
forgiveness is overcoming a self-reproachful stance to reach a self-re-
specting one. Now, some have claimed instead that forgiving oneself
aims for a state of love and compassion for oneself or being at peace
or comfortable with oneself.56 But while someone might try to overcome
self-reproach for the sake of these rather than self-respect, construing
the function of self-forgiveness this way is unsatisfactory on three counts.
First, it is misguided, insofar as it misunderstands self-reproach and so
proposes an ineffective solution. Second, it is morally objectionable,
insofar as it tempts us to end-run the difficult work that dealing re-
sponsibly with warranted self-reproach requires. Third, it is conceptually
problematic, insofar as it precludes the possibility that appropriate self-
forgiveness may yet leave one with a measure of self-reproach that one
ought to bear to the end of one’s days. But, as I argue below, there is
no reason to rule this out.
Self-respect is the outcome for which transformational self-forgive-
ness should aim. But what does that involve? Not just recognizing one’s
intrinsic worth as a person, that is, restoring recognition self-respect.
III
We can begin to develop a better understanding of transformational
self-forgiveness by first getting clearer about the negative stance toward
the self that it would overcome, how self-respect is involved in it, and
why it might be desirable or morally important to overcome it.
The emphasis in Holmgren’s account is on feelings such as guilt,
self-hatred, and self-contempt arising from the recognition that one did
something wrong. Genuinely forgiving ourselves is said to be how we
resolve our wrongdoing. The first thing to note, then, is that doing
wrong is not sufficient to call for forgiveness.8 For if one doesn’t call it
wrong, or isn’t bothered by it, or is bothered but gets over it, the need
to forgive oneself doesn’t arise. Self-reproach is required.9 Although
Rachel Price, in Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible, knows that
some people might blame her for the tragic death of her baby sister
years before, “I ask myself, did I have anything to do with it? The answer
is no. I’ve made up my mind all along to just rise above it. . . . I refuse
8. Oddly, this fact seems to be missed in many discussions. For example, Snow says
explicitly and Holmgren (“Self-Forgiveness”) implies that self-forgiveness is required when-
ever one does (serious) wrong, while Flanagan presents numerous cases of people who
have done wrong but whose own responses to their wrongs we do not see and says of
them that they will have to forgive themselves. It is true that wrongdoers are morally
required to take responsibility for their wrong, but, as I argue below, it is not true that
they need, morally or psychologically, to forgive themselves. It is also interesting to note
a difference in how “wrongdoing” is treated in the literature on forgiveness of self and
others. Some writers, e.g., Snow, Holmgren, and Flanagan, treat it as a matter of error,
carelessness, or human finitude and limitations. Others, e.g., Calhoun and Jeffrie Murphy,
focus on evil, nastiness, dreadful character, distorted values, shameful lapses of personal
integrity ( Jeffrie Murphy, “Jean Hampton on Immorality, Self-Hatred, and Self-Forgive-
ness,” Philosophical Studies 89 [1998]: 215–36).
9. I will use the term ‘self-reproach’ to characterize the central attitude in the negative
stance most generally, recognizing that there is in fact a continuum of stances that might
arise from recognizing that one is responsible for something terrible, wrong, or awry,
ranging from mildly self-critical to ragingly self-condemning, for a short time to a lifetime.
I think we talk about forgiving or not forgiving ourselves when the attitudes and other
dimensions of the stance are more strongly negative and persistent, but I don’t rule out
the relevance of transformative self-forgiveness to milder cases.
76 Ethics October 2001
to correct the assumptions, judgments, standards, and theories. Now
one might argue that although unwarranted self-condemnation can be
powerful and there is strong moral reason to overcome it, it is not self-
forgiveness that overcomes it.57 For consider: if a person’s self-reproach
were wholly ungrounded—if they simply had never done or been what
they think and feel they did or were—we would not advise that person
to forgive themselves; we would instead (were it our place to do any-
thing) point out their error. But while the objection is right about
ungrounded self-reproach, it is nevertheless appropriate to talk about
self-forgiveness where self-condemnation is an excessive reaction to
something really wrong, bad, or terrible. For this kind of self-condem-
nation is self-disrespectful and one might try to overcome it in order
to restore self-respect, which is what transformative self-forgiveness
involves.58
But even where forgiveness is not strictly involved, it is still worth
asking, on what grounds could unwarranted self-condemnation be over-
come? One is, as the objection points out, the truth. For ungrounded
self-condemnation rests on what is, from the Kantian perspective we’ve
been assuming, false: that one has no intrinsic worth, utterly lacks the
capacity for good, cannot possibly improve morally, and so on. But the
truth is that persons always retain intrinsic worth and so never deserve
contempt (in Kant’s sense), that self-condemnation proves that one still
possesses a concern and capacity for the good, and so on. If one is
rational, accepting this ought to dissolve unwarranted attitudes and re-
store recognition self-respect. To the extent that one still has some merit,
evaluative self-respect may also be enhanced.
Another ground is a suitably critiqued self-identity. Where skewed
self-perception or inappropriate standards make one vulnerable to self-
condemnation, seeing oneself more accurately or judging oneself more
reasonably ought to dissolve it. Although we might worry about someone
revising their judgments or standards so as to wiggle out from under
the burden of condemnation, sacrificing self-respect for the sake of
comfort,59 there are two more serious concerns here. First, it is one
57. Holmgren raises something like this objection in “Self-Forgiveness,” pp. 75–76.
58. It is worth noting again that Butler maintained that the function of forgiveness
of others was to overcome only the unwarranted dimensions of resentment, i.e., hatred,
malice, and vengefulness (see n. 2).
59. An example of this is in Nevada Barr’s Endangered Species (New York: Putnam,
1997). Frederick has become infatuated with Molly, the sister of his lover, Anna. But “along
with titillating excitement was a rising tide of self-contempt. . . . He was ashamed. On
some level he was aware of that. . . . Soon, he knew, the process of his exoneration would
begin. Bit by bit he would change what needed changing. Each time he told himself the
story he would come out looking a little cleaner. Frederick’s judgments were cruel, damn-
ing. Years before, he’d learned how to keep them from turning and cutting him. After
VIII
What about warranted self-reproach; on what grounds can it be over-
come? It is here, of course, that forgiving oneself is morally hard. For
self-respecting self-forgiveness requires both that one not overlook or
reinterpret the wrong in one’s actions and self and thus betray one’s
values, and also that one overcome the modes of attitude, thought,
behavior, attention, and desire that carry the verdict of one’s values.
Note, first, that fully taking responsibility is necessary. For since the
problem is centrally one of diminished evaluative self-respect, which
rests on a negative appraisal of self, one can restore it only by proving
the process was complete and he was once again whole, there would be only a scar. . . .
When self-analysis came close to unpleasant truth, Frederick turned his mind to his work.
It was what he was good at” (pp. 153–55).
IX
While self-forgiveness can be hard when responsibility work fully justifies
a positive view of oneself, it is harder when it doesn’t. How could this
be? Perhaps one did something so deeply wrong that it cannot be righted
or atoned for. Or perhaps one’s fears are well-founded: the wrong was
not an aberration but truly a matter of bad character. Sometimes re-
pentance does not effect moral rebirth: there is no discontinuity be-
tween a past bad self and present good self that enables one to see
oneself as now worthy. There may be no getting around that despite all
one’s efforts, one remains shamefully defective. Some things, once
stained, cannot be bleached clean. In such a case, to forgive oneself
would be to change one’s mind and heart about oneself while still
believing that one deserves reproach. In such a case, is self-respecting
self-forgiveness possible? If so, how could it be achieved?
There are three possibilities. The first is that it can’t be done. For
one may have done something unforgivable—objectively unforgivable,
such that no one should forgive anyone who has done such a thing, or
subjectively unforgivable, such that by one’s own standards one could
have no grounds for any stance other than damnation. We say, “I could
never forgive myself if. . . .” Sometimes we mean only to emphasize the
gravity of whatever we are talking about. But sometimes we mean it
66. I take the idea of a personal point of no return from Bruno Bettelheim, The
Informed Heart: Autonomy in a Mass Age (Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1960), p. 157. See also
my “How to Lose Your Self-Respect,” pp. 129–30.
67. Quoted in Jeffrie Murphy, “Hatred: A Qualified Defense,” in Murphy and Hamp-
ton, p. 91.
68. It is here that the forgiveness of others can be useful, even necessary for self-
forgiveness. One may need to look through their perspective to see oneself differently.
Thus the importance to Conrad’s Jim of becoming so admired by the Patusan natives,
and the doom entailed in losing their admiration. Thus, too, Leah Price, “cradled into
forgiveness” by her husband’s love (Kingsolver, p. 530).
69. Orleanna’s daughter Adah takes this view: “If chained is where you have been,
your arms will always bear the marks of the shackles. What you have to lose is your story,
your own slant. You’ll look at the scars on your arms and see mere ugliness, or you’ll take
care to look away from them and see nothing. Either way, you have no words for the story
of where you came from. . . . [But I] am trying to tell the truth. The power is in the
balance: we are our injuries, as much as we are our successes” (Kingsolver, p. 495–96).
70. Poisonwood Bible ends with this view: “If you feel a gnawing at your bones, that is
yourself, hungry. . . . The teeth at your bones are your own, the hunger is yours, the
forgiveness is yours. . . . Slide the weight off your shoulders” (pp. 537, 543).
71. Immanuel Kant, Lectures on Ethics, trans. Louis Infield (Indianapolis: Hackett,
1980), p. 126.