TV talk show hosts salivate over adult survivors of incest or child abuse who announce that they "forgive" their abusers. Why should they be forgiven? In many of these cases, the abusers have never even acknowledged that they have done anything to forgive. On the cross, Jesus reportedly said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." This is the Christian ideal. I wonder whether even Jesus would have offered forgiveness if he thought that the Roman soldiers knew exactly what they were doing and were having a good time watching men die in agony.

The American exaltation of forgiveness, by the way, is at odds with our position as the only nation in the developed world that endorses the death penalty. In my essay on torture last week, I noted that the real cost of torture is not to the tortured but to the torturer, that torture inevitably coarsens the moral fiber of the individual who imposes it and the society that sanctions it. I view the death penalty in exactly the same way. This does not mean, however, that naive forgiveness is the alternative to the death penalty for criminals. There are other ways of exacting justice from criminals. In public life and law, justice is the domain that lies between revenge and forgiveness. In private life, fairness lies between forgiveness and unremitting hatred.

In 1972, I attended the deportation hearings of Hermine Braunsteiner Ryan, a former concentration guard who had married an American citizen and lied about her history to gain admission to the United States. As Aufseherin Braunsteiner, she had been the most feared and sadistic guard in the Maidanek death camp. Most of the witnesses were survivors well-coached in the American convention that they must not show anger on the stand. There was one exception--a woman, an American citizen, who displayed open anger. After the testimony, I overheard one reporter ask her, "Why are you here?" "Why am I here?" the witness exploded in an incredulous tone. "I am here for our dead." Later in the day, the reporter, remarked, in tones drenched with the patronizing psychobabble of that time, "You can see that the woman needs psychiatric help. She's unbalanced by hatred and the quest for revenge." What sheer stupidity was embodied in this reporter's attitude! What business do any of us have telling a victim how she should feel about her tormentor?

In my book Wild Justice: The Evolution of Revenge (1984), I wrote:

"Without contrition on the part of the offender, forgiveness is simply a state of mind--a condition that may be emotionally or morally meaningful to the one who forgives but has no significance as a social bond, or as a medium for restoring civilized relations between the injured and the injurer. The absolute importance of reciprocity is apparent in considering the process of reconciliation as it applies to every offense from the most mundane violation of domestic order to the most grievous crimes against humanity. In our private lives, we are all familiar with the difference between a friend or lover who simply says, `I'm sorry you're hurt,' and one who says, `What I did was wrong; you have every right to feel hurt and I'm sorry. What can I do to make it right?'"

I do not see unconditional forgiveness as an absolute good. I am aware that this runs counter to most of Christian theology (although historically, Christians have tended to "forgive" their enemies only after they have killed or converted them). I am not at all convinced that the abused child who "forgives" his abuser is morally superior to, or psychologically healthier than, one who wants nothing more to do with an abusive parent or who works to bring a molester to justice in court.

In everyday life, of course, all of us must forgive others without counting the cost, because otherwise we would become grudge-collectors who cry "unfair" every time we hold someone else responsible for a real or imagined injustice. But there are unforgivable offenses, for which the withholding of forgiveness is a perfectly appropriate response. Unending, corrosive hatred is not the only alternative. One may simply (and not so simply) go on with one's life in a manner that demonstrates love and compassion for oneself and others. Forgiveness is a personal moral choice. It should not be a cultural imperative.