creating culture where we can learn from our mistakes...

 Prof.Abdelhamid Fouda 

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The paradox of social media, and so much of our technology, is that it keeps us locked in an eternal present, while at the same time creating an eternal archive that never fades away. The result isn’t just higher levels of anxiety, depression and loneliness, it also makes it harder for us to grow and evolve — which is, after all, our essential purpose at the heart of every spiritual and philosophical tradition. Evolution did not stop when we evolved from the apes. There is an instinct embedded in us, our fourth instinct, beyond the more recognized instincts of survival, sex and power, that drives us to evolve and to grow through our mistakes, through pain and through self-discovery.

But we’ve reached a dangerous moment in our culture where we assume a frozen ideal, a state of arrested development, from which no growth or improvement are assumed possible. Because growth cannot happen without the necessary ingredients of redemption, forgiveness and self-forgiveness. If we’re not allowed to learn from our mistakes, atone for them, become better people, then we can grow neither individually nor collectively. After all, the great documents we live by assume a progression — whether it’s the never-ending journey toward “a more perfect union” or Martin Luther King’s “arc of the moral universe” bending toward justice — and even our Constitution had amendments.

But true change at the systemic level has to be accompanied by change at the personal level. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn put it, “the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either — but right through every human heart.” Martin Luther King knew that, which is why he had made it clear that to change society, “you’ve got to change the heart.”  

And by making our worst moments live forever, that’s exactly what our modern technology and our current culture make increasingly difficult to do.

We’ve all seen it happen. An offensive tweet is sent out, or one is found from a decade ago, and the algorithms fire up a storm — one that will live forever, come to define someone for life and limit their possibility for growth. It happens every day on social media. It’s happening to someone right now as you read this. And it has to stop. We can choose to be a society in which we widen the circle of our concern, or we can become a circular firing squad. It won’t be the first time in history. During the French Revolution, prominent revolutionaries who had worked together to bring down the French aristocracy started accusing and even killing each other. Maximilien Robespierre introduced the reign of virtue, which became a Reign of Terror — virtue signaling becoming cancel culture in the extreme. In April 1794, one of the revolutionaries, Georges Danton, was led to the guillotine for urging moderation. “Robespierre will follow me,” he prophesied to his executioner, and indeed three months later it was Robespierre who was led to the guillotine. In a reign of virtuous terror no one is virtuous enough!

Forgiveness doesn’t suspend judgment, it doesn’t mean not holding people accountable or ignoring injustices or forgetting the past. It simply allows the offender the possibility of atonement and progress. Of course, forgiveness is not easy, but who wants to live in a world where there is no forgiveness, no compassion and no love?  

And there are powerful examples of forgiveness that we can learn from. Like Nelson Mandela, who emerged from 27 years in prison and chose to forgive his captors instead of exacting revenge. “As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom,” he said, “I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison.” 

We can see a particularly powerful example in the life and legacy of the late Congressman John Lewis. He was arrested some 40 times while protesting for civil rights in the 1960s, and another half-dozen times protesting for various causes as a congressman. In 1961, Lewis was beaten and bloodied by a mob for entering a “whites only” bus station waiting room in South Carolina. Half a century later, in 2009, Elwin Wilson, a former Ku Klux Klan member who had been in that mob, came to Washington to seek Lewis’ forgiveness. 

“Without a moment of hesitation, I looked back at him and said, ‘I accept your apology,’” Lewis wrote in his book Across That Bridge. After which, Lewis continued, “the man’s son started crying, he started crying and they hugged me and I hugged them both back and I started crying too, they started calling me brother and I called them brother.” The two met several more times after that. “This was a great testament to the power of love to overcome hatred,” wrote Lewis. And it’s why historian Sean Wilentz calls Lewis “a steady force for America’s redemption.”

We all want change, both for ourselves and for our society. And for that to happen, we have to create a culture in which we’re allowed to be forgiven and learn from our mistakes. That means forgiving others, and forgiving ourselves. Our purpose in life isn’t to be perfect, but to always strive and work toward becoming better. When our technology works against this fundamental drive, we need to re-evaluate our relationship with technology and ask ourselves if we are allowing it to create a dystopian world no one would want to live in, fueling conflict and hate and shrinking our humanity. As theologian Barbara Holmes put it, “Love is the greatest mystery of all. Not love as a warm and fuzzy feeling, but love as the animating force that holds us together.” 

Read More on Thrive: A Culture Without the Possibility of Redemption Is a Toxic Culture