Forgiveness is challenging. We want to protect ourselves by keeping our guard up, but this can prolong our pain. This article explores how Great Thinkers understand forgiveness, plus their advice on how to forgive.

This is a preview of the Shortform article, sign up to access the whole article.
Forgiveness may be one of the most challenging aspects of being human. It can feel unnatural, even unjust, to let go of anger when someone has deeply hurt us. Our instincts tell us to remember the pain so we won’t be caught off guard again. But those same instincts evolved alongside something else: the need to live, work, and survive with others. Forgiveness was vital for our ancestors because it restored trust and cooperation—two things no community could function without.
Today, we still wrestle with the same tension: the desire to protect ourselves versus the need for connection. Further complicating the matter is our often skewed sense of justice. As lawyer and activist Bryan Stevenson writes in Just Mercy, US culture teaches that justice means punishing or making people pay for what they’ve done wrong. But true justice, Stevenson argues, isn’t about retribution—it’s about restoration. And forgiveness, when chosen freely and authentically, can be part of that restorative process.
In this article, a range of Great Thinkers—spiritual leaders, survivors, psychologists, and teachers—reflect on forgiveness. What is it for? When is it appropriate? And how do we actually do it? Their answers aren’t always the same, but together they offer a deeper understanding of what forgiveness can look like in a complicated world.
In The Book of Joy, Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama—Christian and Buddhist leaders, respectively—make a case for forgiveness as a path to freedom. Both men endured injustice during their lives: Tutu lived under apartheid in South Africa; the Dalai Lama has spent most of his life in exile following the Chinese occupation of Tibet. Yet neither allowed resentment to take root in their hearts. Why? Because, they argue, holding onto anger prolongs suffering.
Tutu expands on this, writing that resentment makes us prisoners of the past; we replay the injury over and over, keeping our pain alive. So, instead of healing, we remain emotionally stuck—defined by the harm and unable to move forward.
Additionally, Tutu explains, resentment takes a toll on your body; he points to evidence suggesting that chronic anger is linked to poor health outcomes. (Note: Some thinkers take this a step further. For example, in You Can Heal Your Life, Louise Hay argues that resentment is the root cause of conditions like cancer and AIDS—therefore, she says, you can heal your ailments through forgiveness. Science doesn’t support Hay’s position, but research shows that forgiveness does have physical health benefits, including reduced heart attack risk.)
Furthermore, Tutu and the Dalai Lama explain that holding onto anger may motivate you to seek revenge. This only introduces more suffering into the world. When we respond to harm with more harm, we don’t undo the original injury—we compound it. The person we strike back at may, in turn, feel wronged and seek their own revenge, creating a chain reaction of hostility and hurt. What began as a single act of injustice can ripple outward into families, communities, even nations.
According to Tutu and the Dalai Lama, forgiveness is the antidote to these problems. They define forgiveness as the deliberate choice to let go of your anger. This doesn’t require you to condone harmful actions. Rather, it entails distinguishing between the person who harmed you and their actions. You can hold them accountable without totally condemning them, which is a form of dehumanization. In Mere Christianity, scholar C.S. Lewis argues that this is the very definition of justice: seeing people as they truly are—not as monsters, but as fellow human beings capable of both harm and benevolence.
If, as Tutu and the Dalai Lama write, forgiveness ends cycles of suffering, then why do some people choose not to forgive? Psychologists say forgiveness isn’t always necessary for health and healing, and it may not be warranted if the person who harmed you doesn’t express remorse or seems to delight in your pain.
Actress Jennette McCurdy makes this point in her memoir, I’m Glad My Mom Died. After enduring years of abuse by her mother, McCurdy chose not to forgive. Her mother never apologized or acknowledged the harm she caused, so forgiving her would feel inauthentic. Furthermore, attempting to forgive her stalled McCurdy’s healing. She was so focused on understanding her mother that she lost sight of her own pain. Ironically, letting go of the need to forgive helped her feel more compassion for her mother.
Many experts echo McCurdy’s perspective on forgiveness: Trying to force yourself to forgive someone can short-circuit the healing process; it places undue pressure on the victim to make sense of and get over the harm they’ve endured. Withholding forgiveness can also be a way of reclaiming agency. Holding onto anger can clarify boundaries, which helps end the cycle of harm.
By contrast, others find that forgiveness is exactly what breaks the cycle. In her memoir I Am Malala, Malala Yousafzai describes how when she was 15, a Taliban gunman shot her in the head for speaking out in favor of girls’ education. Instead of clinging to anger, she forgave her attacker.
Malala saw that while the gunman’s actions were wrong, he was shaped by forces beyond his control: extremist ideology, systemic injustice, and a lack of education. Later, he apologized to her, and she accepted. Afterward, she explained to an interviewer that she believed the best path forward was not to seek revenge, but to promote peace and education. In this way, forgiveness enabled Malala not only to overcome her own suffering but also to prevent future harm by addressing its root causes.
What do McCurdy and Malala’s experiences tell us about forgiveness? How do we know when we should forgive and when it’s better not to? Here are some considerations to keep in mind:
Say you’ve decided that forgiving someone who hurt you is the right choice for your healing. How do you actually do it? In The Success Principles, Jack Canfield, coauthor of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, outlines a method for forgiveness.
Canfield says the best way to release your negative feelings about what happened is by expressing them. He recommends that you ask the person who hurt you to talk or write them a letter. (Writing a letter might work best if you can’t speak to the person who harmed you because they’re unwilling, because they’ve passed away, or because they’re not safe to be around.)
In either case, you should share all your feelings—your anger, hurt, fear—and also take responsibility for the part you played in the situation. Then, express what you wish had been different or what you want for the future. Finally, acknowledge that the person who wronged you was doing their best, given the resources and knowledge they had at the time, and offer your forgiveness.
Canfield suggests that by the end of this process, you’ll feel a sense of catharsis. Other experts note that forgiveness is not a one-time decision or event. Canfield’s method may help you get the ball rolling, but you might have to revisit your feelings multiple times. That’s normal. Forgiveness doesn’t always come quickly or easily, especially if the hurt runs deep. The important thing is that you honor your emotions and move at your own pace. If writing the letter brings up more pain than relief, that’s information too. It may signal that you need more time, support, or space to process.
Do you think forgiving someone always helps you heal, or can not forgiving be healing too? Is there someone you’ve struggled to forgive? What makes forgiveness feel possible—or not—for you?