Prisonist.org: Faith & Dignity
for the Days Ahead
Blogs, Guest Blogs & News
for the Days Ahead
Blogs, Guest Blogs & News
What's the Use of Regret?
by Gordon Marino - Guest Blogger
We read this Op-Ed in The New York Times (Oct. 13, 2016) and reached out to the author who enthusiastically gave us permission to reprint on prisonist.org.
_____________
A
few weeks ago I was sitting poolside in Florida with a friendly retiree
who was standing in the warm aqua water, beaming with friendliness. We
started chatting, first about his hometown, Pittsburgh, and the many
great athletes from there. Soon the conversation pivoted to Vietnam and
his experiences as a draftee there. Embarrassed because I was spared
from that jungle and moral crucible, I just listened. First it was a few
madcap stories about his arrival in ’Nam, but then his thoughts swam
along a darker current.
Moving
his arms underwater, he recalled: “One time I had just gotten paid and I
was gambling, playing poker with this 14-year-old Vietnamese kid. A
great kid. He was studying English — wanted to make something of
himself! Well, he won fair and square. He cleaned me out of my whole
paycheck. I was drinking heavily back then. I picked up my M16, pointed
it at him and demanded my money back. He gave me my money.”
All
I could do was shake my head and tell him (though it wasn’t completely
true) that every ugly deed that I committed had also been fueled by
alcohol. As though I’d missed the point, he said: “I haven’t had a drink
in decades. But you know I’d give anything to be able to see that kid
now grown.” His voice swelled with emotion. “I would get on my knees and
ask his forgiveness. I would say that I hope he has had a great life
and that I am sorry.”
The
otherwise jolly veteran-turned-accountant went on to suggest that he
had done worse things “over there.” I hung my head and was thinking that
maybe I should apologize to him for having been able and willing to get
a deferment, avoiding the harrowing machine that sliced up his sense of
innocence.
Not
long after, I found myself wide awake one night, waiting for the gods
of sleep to descend, when the incubus of a memory of another weak and
selfish moment crawled out from under my bed. Sitting on my chest, it
may as well have snickered, “O, teacher of ethics, how can you have any
moral confidence in yourself after that?”
After what?
Better
not to say. No less of an authority on sin and repentance than
Dostoyevsky raised doubts about our ability to confess without boasting
or making a power grab. Albert Camus, a student of Dostoyevsky, wrote
“The Fall,” a book about guilt and judgment in an age when God and
forgiveness have been put to bed. Camus’s protagonist, the “judge
penitent” Jean-Baptiste Clamence, confesses that “the more I accuse
myself, the more I have a right to judge you — even better, I provoke
you into judging yourself.”
Perhaps I will commit one fewer sin by refraining from broadcasting my regrets.
In
one of Kierkegaard’s most famous and cryptic sentences, he wrote, “The
self is a relation that relates itself to itself.” Kierkegaard went on
to explain that among other things, we are beings who combine aspects of
both temporality and eternity. We are given the task of relating
ourselves to our past and to our future. Days gone by are seldom an
issue, but how to interpret major missteps that might prompt a person to
lose faith in himself is a challenge that shapes who we are.
Some
thinkers have portrayed regret as a humanizing emotion. The
20th-century moral philosopher Bernard Williams pointed out that, in
instances where a person hurts another through no fault of her own (to
use his example, a truck driver who runs over a child), we still expect
her to feel remorseful. She will feel the weight of the event more
intensely than any spectator. Other people, Williams writes, will try to
comfort her, “but it is important that this is seen as something that
should need to be done, and indeed some doubt would be felt about a
driver who too blandly or readily moved to that position” of comfort.
Others
hold the commonsense view that regret over a past event you can do
nothing about is a waste of time when you can actually do something instead.
The
17th-century philosopher Baruch Spinoza reasoned that remorse and
repentance are pernicious intoxicants that interfere with our
understanding: It is out of rashness that we transgress and it is out of
rashness that that we pound our heads about our transgressions. Our
main aim, he believed, should be to avoid acting on impulse and emotion
and to be guided by reason. Nietzsche agreed, calling remorse “adding to
the first act of stupidity a second.”
In
our therapeutic age, the likely counsel to the troubled former soldier
would be “forgive yourself!” But self-forgiveness is a misconception.
The only people who can forgive us are those we have sinned against,
those we have harmed. Dostoyevsky’s Ivan Karamozov argued that not even
God has the right to forgive someone who has tortured and murdered
children. After all, God wasn’t the one who was tortured.
I
have no authority to forgive someone for mugging you, and I can’t
forgive myself for cheating someone else. This is not to endorse
endlessly torturing ourselves or pathological guilt. When the super-ego
becomes a mad dog, we lose faith in ourselves and in our ability to mend
our ways. We can learn to let things go, but before we let them go, we
have to let regret get hold of us. Perhaps the old biblical formula is
best — repent, ask for forgiveness with a sincere resolve to change your
ways.
Regrets
come in different forms. There are the faux pas and botched career
moves. Just before he tumbled over the falls and out of existence, I
asked an uncle if he had any regrets. His brow furrowed, he drew a deep
breath as though what he was about to say was hard-going. Then he
confessed that the one thing he deeply regretted was selling a certain
piece of property at a price that was much too low.
Moral
regrets are usually packed up in deep self-storage and we often make a
point of remembering to forget them, even while we are awash in
pseudo-regrets. I often regale my male friends with the tale of the time
during college football pre-season when I started a fight with a coach
on the practice field. This incident helped bring an end to my less than
glorious gridiron career, and in that sense I regret it, but when I
tell the story it is always with a chuckle, as if to say, “Wasn’t I a
pirate in my day?”
As
Freud and Kierkegaard taught, we always have to consider the affect,
the mood with which an idea is expressed, in order to begin to
comprehend the meaning that the idea has for us. The memory that the
Vietnam vet bounced out of the pool was not of that backward boastful
sort, it was a beach ball of sorrow. I suspect that he was a better
person for having mulled over and hung his head for his behavior than he
would have been had he resolved — what’s done is done and never thought
about it again.
Kierkegaard
observed that you don’t change God when you pray, you change yourself.
Perhaps it is the same with regret. I can’t rewind and expunge my past
actions, but perhaps I change who I am in my act of remorse. Henry David
Thoreau advised: “Make the most of your regrets; never smother your
sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and
integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.” To live afresh
is to be morally born again.
Gordon Marino, Ph.D. is a professor of philosophy at St. Olaf College, Northfield, MN. His areas of specialization include History of Philosophy, Philosophy of
Religion, and Kierkegaard. Professor Marino is the author of Kierkegaard in the Present Age and co-editor of The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard. His articles have appeared in the Atlantic Monthly, New York Times Magazine, Wall Street Journal, American Poetry Review, and many other periodicals. Marino is also the Curator of the Hong Kierkegaard Library. He can be reached at:
marino@stolaf.edu
_____________
marino@stolaf.edu
_____________
Comments from Social Media
_____________
Donations
We are grateful for all donations this past year to our Ministries. These donations enable us to grow, reach out and serve this community for which there is far too little understanding, compassion, empathy and accurate information. Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc. is a CT Religious Corp. with 501c3 status -
all donations are tax deductible to the extent permitted by law. We hope you will consider making a donation to our appeal this year. Donations can be made by credit card/PayPal here, at the "Donate" button on on our site, prisonist.org or by sending your check payable to: "Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc." P.O. Box 1232, Weston, Connecticut 06883. We have enclosed an addressed envelope for your use. Thank you.
__________
If you, a friend or a family member are
experiencing a white-collar or nonviolent incarceration issue, please contact
us and we will promptly send you an information package by mail, email or via
Dropbox.
The darkest days of a person's life can be a
The darkest days of a person's life can be a
time of renewal and hope
____________
Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc.
Rev. Deacon Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Director
jgrant@prisonist.org
(o) 203-769-1096
(m) 203-339-5887
Twitter
Facebook
Linked In
Pinterest
Google+
Rev. Deacon Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Director
jgrant@prisonist.org
(o) 203-769-1096
(m) 203-339-5887
Linked In
Google+
Lynn Springer, Founding Advocate, Innocent Spouse & Children Project
lspringer@prisonist.org
lspringer@prisonist.org
(203) 536-5508
Rev. Monsignor Joseph Ciccone, Ed D, M Div
Supervising Minister
stjosephmissionchurch@gmail.com
(201) 982-2206
Jacqueline Polverari, MBA, MSW, Advocate
Women's Incarceration Issues
jpolverari@prisonist.org
(203) 671-5139
George Bresnan, Advocate, Ex-Pats
gbresnan@prisonist.org
(203) 609-5088
Jim Gabal, Development
jgabal@prisonist.org
(203) 858-2865
Babz Rawls Ivy, Media Contact
mediababz@gmail.com
(203) 645-9278
Supervising Minister
stjosephmissionchurch@gmail.com
(201) 982-2206
Jacqueline Polverari, MBA, MSW, Advocate
Women's Incarceration Issues
jpolverari@prisonist.org
(203) 671-5139
George Bresnan, Advocate, Ex-Pats
gbresnan@prisonist.org
(203) 609-5088
Jim Gabal, Development
jgabal@prisonist.org
(203) 858-2865
Babz Rawls Ivy, Media Contact
mediababz@gmail.com
(203) 645-9278
I have no authority to forgive someone for mugging you, and I can’t forgive myself for cheating someone else." <<
All this seems to assume that you and me are separate. All this seems to assume that by forgiving ones self (which is possible) others are excluded and thats not the case. I not only can but I may need to forgive "myself for harming another." And as for regret we all have them and maybe our task is to learn to forgive ourselves for being human and I think when I do this for myself it helps me to do this with others too...even God
Laird Ballard Jeff...regret teaches us to avoid continuing on a similar path when seen again. I agree with both Kierkegaard and Thoreau. Good post!
Bob Russel (CIPA 08) Hi There; A rather interesting piece written here. When I pray I always find like having a conversation with God plus time for personal reflection. Thank you.
Sonni Quick: I have a different perspective on the value of forgiveness than what was expressed here and some of that comes from not being a Christian nor do I have a belief a in a God whatsoever which to me is just a teaching passed down through the ages because of man's desire to understand his life. I've been a Buddhist for 30 years which has no outside intelligence with a plan for your life. We generally believe what we are taught and everyone has the right to choose their belief system. I respect that. That being said - forgiveness - I've has this talk many times over the years. There are those who think as long as they ask for God's forgiveness he will save you all all is okay. But as this author also said, forgiveness for whateverbad thing you did does not change what you did. You can think God forgives you but the fact remains that an actual cause was made. The effect can't be just erased. The effect of that cause will happen. People cannot do what they want and think the act of asking for forgiveness will make it better. Buddhism calls it - The Law of Cause and Effect. Christianity calls it - You Reap What You Soow. Nichiren Buddhists take that law very seriously. Christians rarely do because they think asking for forgiveness fixes their transgression.
No one is perfect, but it is through the mistakes we make, and the genuine perusal of our own nature, thinking about why we do the things we do, and asking ourself why we can't stop reacting to our environment in a negative way that helps us to gradually change aspects of our ourselves that cause us unhappiness: a quick temper, a judgemental attitude, lying about unnecessary things -anything that brings negativity into play. Why do we do it? It happens over and over until we learn whatever lesson there is to learn. When we change something fundamental inside is it will reflect in our environment. Nothing and no one can change who you are or the life that surrounds you. Only you can do that. I don't see, in the lives of the Christians I grew up with, or with the Christians I know today, that their faith has changed their life. Yes, they can proclaim their love of God,they can memorized passages in the Bible, they can tell everyone how important God is to them and go to church for activities several times a week - but they don't understand the meaning of what they practice and apply it to all parts of their life. They are allowed to be hateful and mean against people they don't like. We saw so much of it this past year - because they don't understand there are consequences to what they do. They think God will forgive then. In the end their faith hasn't helped them become better people who make better causes and then have better lives. They think bad behavior is okay and all they wait for is heaven, not realizing the state of heaven and hell happens while they live. They don't have to due to go there.You only need to look at all the miserable and unhappy people there is that gets worse as they age to understand that.Put yourself inside a group of people of any size that understand the law of cause and effect and you will say, "I want what you have."
Sorry I wrote for so long. It is what I do when I teach a point. My only question for anyone who reads this: ask yourself, Why do you believe what you believe? Who taught you it was the truth? Go to the beginning and question, who taught that person it was the truth. Also, what is your absolute proof?
Thank you.