are you saying that aside from skipping anger, should we also skip punishment or desert to the person who caused harm? — L'éléphant
Yes, punishment presupposes blame and anger.
In punishment, the angered wants to teach the guilty party a lesson, remind them, shame them, make them feel
the guilt they inexplicably failed to feel as a result of their regressive actions. Why do we say the criminal should suffer what the victim suffered, get a `taste of their own medicine’? If they really know the ethical rigor of what was lost to us in our disappointed suffering, we think, then they may see the error of their ways and return to what we believe they knew all along. Our hostility
wants to provoke the other’s pain only in order to gain the opportunity to ask "How do YOU like it?" and hear them empathetically link their pain with ours by linking their thinking more intimately with ours.
But since we don’t know why they violated our expectation of them, why and how they failed to
do what our blameful anger tells us they `should have’ according to our prior estimation of their relation to us, this guilt-inducing process is tentative, unsure.
Even if we succeed in getting the blameful other to atone and re-establish their previous intimacy with us, we understand them no better than we did prior to their hostility-generating action, and thus our hostility provides an inadequate solution to our puzzlement and anxiety. All we have learned from the episode is that they other is potentially untrustworthy, unpredictable. The
ineffectiveness of this approach can be seen in the fact that even if contempt succeeds in getting the perpetrator to mend their ways, an adequate understanding of his or her puzzling motives has not been achieved. The very success of the contempt delays the pursuit of a
permeable construction within which the other’s apparently arbitrary disappointing deviation
from what one expected of them can be seen as a necessary, adaptive elaboration of their way of
construing their role in the relationship.
When confronted with behavior of another that is comprehensively different from our own, a mystery to us, and especially when it disturbs us, we need to bridge the gap between ourselves and the other not by attributing the problem to the other’s being at the mercy of capriciously wayward motives which we may hope to re-shape, but by striving to subsume the other’s outlook within a revised version of our own system.
in any moral assessment of a situation, there are always two sides -- the person causing harm and the person who suffered the harm. I've heard of people who forgave their attackers -- that is, they've come to terms with their anger and found closure by talking to their attackers directly and forgiving them (in court or prison of course). — L'éléphant
Here’s my view of forgiveness:
Transcending anger by revising one’s construction of the event means arriving at an explanation that does not require the other’s contrition, which only serves to appease the blameful person rather than enlighten him. Forgiveness and turning the other cheek only make sense in the context of blame, which implies a belief in the potential arbitrariness and capriciousness of human motives. Seeking the other’s atonement does not reflect an effective understanding of the original insult.
If, rather than getting angry or condemning another who wrongs me, I respond with loving forgiveness, my absolution of the other presupposes my anger and blame toward them. I can only forgive the other’s trespass to the extent that I recognize a sign of contrition or confession on their part. Ideals of so-called unconditional forgiveness, of turning the other cheek, loving one's oppressor, could also be understood as conditional in various ways. In the absence of the other's willingness to atone, I may forgive evil when I believe that there are special or extenuating circumstances which will allow me to view the perpetrator as less culpable (the sinner knows not what he does). I can say the other was blinded or deluded, led astray. My offer of grace is then subtly hostile, both an embrace and a slap. I hold forth the carrot of my love as a lure, hoping thereby to uncloud the other's conscience so as to enable them to discover their
culpability. In opening my arms, I hope the prodigal son will return chastised, suddenly aware of a need to be forgiven. Even when there is held little chance that the sinner will openly acknowledge his sin, I may hope that my outrage connects with a seed of regret and contrition
buried deep within the other, as if my `unconditional' forgiveness is an acknowledgment of God's or the subliminal conscience of the other's apologizing in the name of the sinner.