For centuries, various thoughts about forgiveness have surfaced, suggesting that it’s not something you can simply request. While you can plead for it or try to earn it, once someone asserts that you owe it, that’s where the misunderstanding begins.
Sam Ridge, a philosopher at the University of California, San Diego, challenges traditional views. He proposes in recent papers that individuals who have wronged others may actually have a “right to be forgiven by their victims.” Essentially, he frames forgiveness as a moral asset that can be claimed, not just desired. It might sound tidy in a philosophical discussion, yet it feels less convincing when faced with the harsh realities and scars people carry.
Promise and Rights
Ridge’s viewpoint starts with the idea that “promises create rights,” suggesting that because “we can promise to forgive,” it follows that “we have the right to be forgiven.” He extends this idea beyond explicit promises, contending that consistent habits of patience can shape expectations and implicit commitments within relationships, which may eventually feel like rights. Many philosophers have treated forgiveness as something only the victim possesses.
From a Christian viewpoint, there’s merit in Ridge’s approach. He seems to push against a modern culture of grievance, where anger is seen as a cause and forgiveness is sometimes viewed as relinquishing power. He rightly notes that resentment isn’t something that can be ignored indefinitely and emphasizes that relationships come with real obligations. In a world that often views promises as temporary, the idea that commitments are binding feels refreshing.
However, instead of acknowledging that forgiveness isn’t merely voluntary, Ridge resorts to the language of rights as his most straightforward tool.
Reframing Forgiveness
This shift aligns with broader cultural trends. Forgiveness has increasingly been viewed through a therapeutic lens, with researchers at Harvard underscoring its benefits for mental health and relationship stability. The prevailing self-help advice simplifies the message: forgive to heal and move forward.
When forgiveness is primarily seen as a psychological benefit, it’s easy to argue that individuals should grant this benefit to one another. Ridge may be extending this idea—if forgiveness is good for everyone, shouldn’t offenders have a claim to it? But, while these ideas may hold intellectual weight, they often miss a spiritual depth.
Challenges in Ridge’s Proposal
Several issues arise from Ridge’s framework. The New Testament presents forgiveness not as a legal claim but as a grace stemming from divine mercy. The notion of “forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors” illustrates that while Christian forgiveness is mandated, it’s not coerced. It stems from a place of being forgiven, rather than from a transactional mindset.
Ridge’s perspective treats forgiveness as a moral exchange; “I promised, so you owe me.” This perspective overlooks that in the biblical sense, forgiveness isn’t a debt to settle. It’s a natural response to the transformation of one’s heart. You can’t legally enforce someone to love or apologize.
Spiritual versus Contractual
The second concern is that Ridge conflates keeping a promise with executing a spiritual act. If a father says to his daughter, “I promise to forgive you,” he’s indeed taking on a real obligation to manage his feelings. However, this doesn’t mean she has rightfully earned something that only grace can provide. It’s fundamentally the father’s responsibility to God, not the daughter’s entitlement.
In friendships, there exists a mutual expectation of kindness and readiness to reconcile. A failure to forgive after years of friendship indicates a deeper breakdown, but such situations shouldn’t be framed as contractual failures. True relationships thrive on goodwill, not enforced demands.
Crucifying Pride
Third, Ridge’s approach, especially in cases he describes as “moderate fraud,” runs the risk of trivializing those everyday moments where forgiveness is actually a call to humility and mercy. When viewed through the lens of rights, forgiveness feels less like a gift and more like a transaction. “I made amends—now you owe me.” This mindset may satisfy some theoretical frameworks but undermines the essence of virtue itself.
Philosophers like Lucy Alley and Cheshire Calhoun recognize the potential dangers in Ridge’s argument, emphasizing that forgiveness is often seen as transcendental—something noble and beautiful, not a claim that can be rightfully demanded. Ridge may acknowledge this, but he doesn’t adequately explore the broader implications. True forgiveness can be needed urgently, even if it isn’t something an offender can rightfully claim. Once it becomes a matter of rights, its essence is diminished.
Humane Considerations
To be fair, Ridge attempts to avoid this pitfall by restricting his claims to certain types of crimes. He admits that some acts are simply unforgivable and insists that victims won’t be rushed into hasty settlements. These are reasonable boundaries. Yet, framing forgiveness in terms of rights complicates them. Once defined through that lens, a victim’s conscience risks becoming yet another burden to manage, creating pressure and unfair expectations.
The Christian response is, in some ways, more demanding yet fundamentally humane. It tells the wrongdoer, “You don’t have a right to your neighbor’s forgiveness; instead, you have the right to humble yourself before God’s mercy.” And to the victim, it conveys, “You don’t have the right to hold onto hatred indefinitely; you’re commanded to forgive as you’ve been forgiven.” This command comes from a divine source, rather than the one who has wronged you.
A damaged bond is not merely a contract to be argued over. It’s a space where grace, repentance, and honesty, along with necessary boundaries, must coexist—far removed from a ledger of rights and claims.
