Reconciliation

So I was scrolling online the other day and stumbled upon this video of a Žižek lecture, and there was this one anecdote about apologies, forgiveness, and making up that really stuck with me. I figured I’d share it here.

Basically, Žižek tells this story about being at a party where he meets his friend—and philosophical rival—Judith Butler. Since she's a lesbian, he tries to be funny (which, knowing him, was probably a bad move) and asks if the girl standing next to her is also "degenerate." He was basically trying to joke around to see if they were lovers, you know? Well, naturally, Ms. Butler took offense. Later on, Žižek gives her a call to apologize, basically blaming his own notorious lack of tact and just being a clumsy American guy about things. But then Butler says, "Slavoj, honestly, there’s really no need to apologize."

The point Žižek makes is super interesting: she could only say "there's no need to apologize" *after* he actually apologized. Like, if he hadn't said anything, she probably wouldn't have felt like an apology wasn't necessary. It's only because he offered the apology that trust is restored, which then makes it possible to sincerely say, "Hey, don't worry about it, we're friends, I get you..."

And here’s the kicker: if she had said something like, "I forgive you, and you really should apologize because that was awful," then Žižek would have felt insulted, and they wouldn't have actually reconciled.

So, the whole ritual can look totally fake on the surface:
- he apologizes
- she says "you don't need to apologize" (even though they both know he does, otherwise she'd still be mad)
- he insists that the apology is necessary (even though he'd actually feel insulted if *she* insisted on it).

But I guess the actual words being said aren't the main thing; the whole thing is more of a ritual. The real magic is in the unspoken meaning behind those words: it's basically "I'm sorry" — "I forgive you" — "thank you."

It's kind of funny how even though these people are philosophers who are supposedly all about tearing down traditions, they still end up following this classic, traditional little social dance.

We’re really talking about communication feedback here, not some empty ritual. An apology doesn't carry much weight just standing on its own—it’s more of an indicator of intent. It serves as a way to confirm that the reaction (in this case, the anger) didn't go unnoticed, and to clarify that such a fallout wasn't actually what Žižek was aiming for in the first place.

So, while a formal apology might not be strictly necessary, it was vital for Žižek to recognize the actual impact of his words. Since the consequences were totally out of sync with what he intended, he needed to make that clear to the other side. Because there was no actual malice involved, the apology itself isn't the point. Just the act of acknowledging the situation—providing that feedback—effectively removes the need for a traditional apology, because the feedback explains the context and essentially neutralizes the "insult."

Forgiveness, sure—but so does justice, especially when we're talking about genocide. I’ll personally forgive you, if only to find some peace of mind for both of us, but let the legal system handle the sentencing properly.

James Lee77 said:So I was scrolling online the other day and stumbled upon this video of a Žižek lecture, and there was this one anecdote about apologies, forgiveness, and making up that really stuck with me. I figured I’d share it here.

Basically, Žižek tells this story about being at a party where he meets his friend—and philosophical rival—Judith Butler. Since she's a lesbian, he tries to be funny (which, knowing him, was probably a bad move) and asks if the girl standing next to her is also "degenerate." He was basically trying to joke around to see if they were lovers, you know? Well, naturally, Ms. Butler took offense. Later on, Žižek gives her a call to apologize, basically blaming his own notorious lack of tact and just being a clumsy American guy about things. But then Butler says, "Slavoj, honestly, there’s really no need to apologize."

The point Žižek makes is super interesting: she could only say "there's no need to apologize" *after* he actually apologized. Like, if he hadn't said anything, she probably wouldn't have felt like an apology wasn't necessary. It's only because he offered the apology that trust is restored, which then makes it possible to sincerely say, "Hey, don't worry about it, we're friends, I get you..."

And here’s the kicker: if she had said something like, "I forgive you, and you really should apologize because that was awful," then Žižek would have felt insulted, and they wouldn't have actually reconciled.

So, the whole ritual can look totally fake on the surface:
- he apologizes
- she says "you don't need to apologize" (even though they both know he does, otherwise she'd still be mad)
- he insists that the apology is necessary (even though he'd actually feel insulted if *she* insisted on it).

But I guess the actual words being said aren't the main thing; the whole thing is more of a ritual. The real magic is in the unspoken meaning behind those words: it's basically "I'm sorry" — "I forgive you" — "thank you."

It's kind of funny how even though these people are philosophers who are supposedly all about tearing down traditions, they still end up following this classic, traditional little social dance.

I find myself agreeing with Judith here, because it was only through that specific gesture from Žižek that such a moment of reconciliation could happen, restoring that sense of trust that allowed him to be so blunt in the first place (which is exactly what you explained so well here).

We owe one another certain words as an act of grace, much like a dear writer of mine once said regarding all those unspoken, silenced, overlooked, avoided, omitted, sunken, bypassed, and unuttered words and tones—if we don't offer them, the interest keeps mounting until the whole Tower of Babel collapses under the weight of linguistic excess and sheer communicative chaos.

bluebison70 said:

steelridge58:
On the flip side, I suppose you can forgive someone without actually making peace with them.

I've come to terms with it, I guess. That restless feeling... the hatred, the urge for revenge, all those heavy, negative emotions... they aren't there anymore. I don't think I could ever find any sense of peace or reconciliation if I hadn't let go first. Inner peace just seems impossible without forgiveness. It’s the forgiveness that brings the peace. I forgave him, and now I feel at peace.

That’s really the only way to find peace, isn't it? It only happens once you've truly forgiven.

steelridge58 said:That’s really the only way to find peace, isn't it? It only happens once you've truly forgiven.

Peace!?!? Seriously, steelridge58, what kind of "peace" are we even talking about after someone has completely slaughtered your family? Peace!? What exactly are we discussing here?

It feels impossible to avoid falling back into those same old circular arguments, like the debate over the original topic or those typical Žižek remarks. Does it even make sense to trivialize things this much!?

Brenda Cook4 said:Peace!?!? Seriously, steelridge58, what kind of "peace" are we even talking about after someone has completely slaughtered your family? Peace!? What exactly are we discussing here?

It feels impossible to avoid falling back into those same old circular arguments, like the debate over the original topic or those typical Žižek remarks. Does it even make sense to trivialize things this much!?

Alright, look; I was just responding to bluebison70 regarding his specific point, which definitely isn't meant to be some sweeping generalization or a way to minimize actual crimes, but rather a conversation about that sense of inner peace that a person just can't seem to grasp if they haven't found a way to forgive something deep down inside themselves—if they're still carrying that weight... When you're dealing with actual atrocities, it is such an unimaginable burden; it’s this gut-wrenching pain that I imagine absolutely tears apart those who are most directly affected, those hit by the initial injustice of the act itself, and then hit a second time by the systemic injustice of how the crime is processed through inadequate punishments or just the sheer gravity of what happened... There are endless examples of this, and terrible crimes are happening all around us at any given moment, but when it comes to one's own personal peace, I truly believe it remains out of reach without forgiveness, whether that means forgiving others or even forgiving oneself for not being in the position of the victim, or for failing to protect someone you would have died for; it's so incredibly hard to talk about this in the abstract... perhaps a person has to endure their own private Calvary just to remain human and not lose their mind to the agony... but finding any kind of peace is simply impossible if there is a burning hatred or a consuming desire for revenge festering inside, especially when nothing can change the past and no lost lives can ever be brought back.

I'm actually really glad to see you diving back into philosophy.

Look, I was just responding to bluebison70's point; I wasn't trying to generalize or downplay the reality of actual crimes. My focus is specifically on that sense of inner peace—the kind you just can't reach if you're still carrying around unaddressed baggage inside you. When we talk about violent crimes, the weight of that is staggering. It’s an agonizing level of pain that I imagine tears apart those directly affected—not just by the initial injustice of the act itself, but by the secondary injustice often found in how the legal system handles it through inadequate sentencing, or simply the sheer gravity of what happened. There are countless examples of this, and horrific acts continue to occur all around us every single day. But when it comes to one's own soul? I truly believe peace is impossible without forgiveness. And that includes forgiving yourself—for not being there for the victim, or for failing to protect someone you would have died for. It's hard to look at this purely as an abstract concept... perhaps a person has to walk through their own private Calvary just to remain human, to keep from losing their mind to the agony. You simply cannot find tranquility if you're fueled by burning hatred or a desperate thirst for revenge, especially when nothing can change the past and lost lives can never be brought back.

I'm glad to see you diving back into philosophy.

...it starts with some initial catharsis, and then maybe you reach a sort of 'reconciliation' in terms of finally closing that chapter. (I'd leave "forgiveness" out of the equation here, because in this context, forgiving might feel like treating the perpetrator as if nothing actually happened...)

thx.

Brenda Cook4 said:

Look, I was just responding to bluebison70's point; I wasn't trying to generalize or downplay the reality of actual crimes. My focus is specifically on that sense of inner peace—the kind you just can't reach if you're still carrying around unaddressed baggage inside you. When we talk about violent crimes, the weight of that is staggering. It’s an agonizing level of pain that I imagine tears apart those directly affected—not just by the initial injustice of the act itself, but by the secondary injustice often found in how the legal system handles it through inadequate sentencing, or simply the sheer gravity of what happened. There are countless examples of this, and horrific acts continue to occur all around us every single day. But when it comes to one's own soul? I truly believe peace is impossible without forgiveness. And that includes forgiving yourself—for not being there for the victim, or for failing to protect someone you would have died for. It's hard to look at this purely as an abstract concept... perhaps a person has to walk through their own private Calvary just to remain human, to keep from losing their mind to the agony. You simply cannot find tranquility if you're fueled by burning hatred or a desperate thirst for revenge, especially when nothing can change the past and lost lives can never be brought back.

I'm glad to see you diving back into philosophy.

...it starts with some initial catharsis, and then maybe you reach a sort of 'reconciliation' in terms of finally closing that chapter. (I'd leave "forgiveness" out of the equation here, because in this context, forgiving might feel like treating the perpetrator as if nothing actually happened...)

thx.

What exactly should be put on the other side of the scale to balance out the loss of a family, or even just one member?😕 How many times would you have to kill a murderer to make it equal to those who were killed?😕

True justice is impossible to satisfy or achieve. Courts simply penalize behavior that is socially unacceptable or harmful—nothing more.

When it comes to tragedies caused by pandemics, natural disasters, or similar events, people say God was unfair, but I have never heard anyone demand justice from God before asking Him for forgiveness.

Seeking justice usually boils down to committing an injustice, based on the simple idea of switching roles—essentially shifting the burden of seeking justice onto the person who committed the initial wrong.🙂

🙂🙂🙂

Harold James9 said:What exactly should be put on the other side of the scale to balance out the loss of a family, or even just one member?😕 How many times would you have to kill a murderer to make it equal to those who were killed?😕

True justice is impossible to satisfy or achieve. Courts simply penalize behavior that is socially unacceptable or harmful—nothing more.

When it comes to tragedies caused by pandemics, natural disasters, or similar events, people say God was unfair, but I have never heard anyone demand justice from God before asking Him for forgiveness.

Seeking justice usually boils down to committing an injustice, based on the simple idea of switching roles—essentially shifting the burden of seeking justice onto the person who committed the initial wrong.🙂

🙂🙂🙂

You definitely misunderstood my point. I wasn't talking about "seeking justice" in a vigilante sense; I was talking about holding the proper authorities accountable, which is a completely different thing altogether...

...whether that actually establishes true justice is a question, but without some form of accountability, nothing else is even possible...

Besides, my forgiveness isn't some magic wand that clears away all my internal tension. There’s a period of anger and grief. Honestly, suppressing those normal, negative reactions—which are necessary for emotional catharsis—can actually make you physically sick... and only after that does a person move forward...

As for that whole business with "God"... well...

Brenda Cook4 said:You definitely misunderstood my point. I wasn't talking about "seeking justice" in a vigilante sense; I was talking about holding the proper authorities accountable, which is a completely different thing altogether...

...whether that actually establishes true justice is a question, but without some form of accountability, nothing else is even possible...

Besides, my forgiveness isn't some magic wand that clears away all my internal tension. There’s a period of anger and grief. Honestly, suppressing those normal, negative reactions—which are necessary for emotional catharsis—can actually make you physically sick... and only after that does a person move forward...

As for that whole business with "God"... well...

Brenda Cook4, I understand you perfectly, and I’ll reiterate that sanctions alone can never deliver true justice in the face of a crime.

I agree with the quote and believe that ... after that, one simply moves on... — there is no other way. Whether forgiveness plays a role in that process is secondary.

Fortunately, I haven't lived through such horror, so I wouldn't dare lecture anyone who actually has.

🙂🙂🙂

Harold James9 said:Brenda Cook4, I understand you perfectly, and I’ll reiterate that sanctions alone can never deliver true justice in the face of a crime.

I agree with the quote and believe that ... after that, one simply moves on... — there is no other way. Whether forgiveness plays a role in that process is secondary.

Fortunately, I haven't lived through such horror, so I wouldn't dare lecture anyone who actually has.

🙂🙂🙂

That's a fair point; when it comes to crimes, sanctions can't deliver true justice because there's no legal remedy that can ever replace a life lost. But here's what's tripping me up: if sanctions can't bring justice, they *can* actually cause further injustice. So, how do you reconcile that tension—the idea that justice is impossible (since the only real justice would be if the crime never happened in the first place) while simultaneously acknowledging that these actions might actually create a new layer of unfairness?

Harold James9 said:Brenda Cook4, I understand you perfectly, and I’ll reiterate that sanctions alone can never deliver true justice in the face of a crime.

I agree with the quote and believe that ... after that, one simply moves on... — there is no other way. Whether forgiveness plays a role in that process is secondary.

Fortunately, I haven't lived through such horror, so I wouldn't dare lecture anyone who actually has.

🙂🙂🙂

What sanctions can't achieve is a return to the "status quo ante" as the only way to make things "right." To me, "justice" is essentially a social contract—something expressed through our laws, our courts, and our institutions. Take Baudrillard, for instance; he argues that human rights are essentially "soft, light, post-coital historical ideologies." Someone else might argue the opposite, which is why the only real necessity is having that agreed-upon framework. It needs to be tolerant enough to prevent us from tearing each other apart... leaving us with nothing but the "justice" found in our legal processes and procedures.

And, thankfully, I haven't had to experience such a horror firsthand either.

I want to know how anyone actually justifies forgiving Ratko Mercer for the massacre at Srebrenica. Technically speaking, what would even constitute a "just" sentence if he were standing before a court? You could apply that exact same logic to the massacres at the Ottawa marketplace during the war.
We aren't talking about some polite, social forgiveness because someone gave you a dirty look.

It honestly baffles me how even the smartest people often fail to see that individuals—people like Ratko Mercer—are really just symptoms of the era and the society they live in.

You need a very specific set of societal conditions for someone like that to rise through the ranks unchecked, eventually reaching a position of power where they can actually carry out such atrocities.

Nothing ever happens without warning signs, but it seems like people are constantly too blind to catch those red flags when they're waving right in their faces. When we judge Ratko Mercer, we're really just judging ourselves—because we are the very society that allowed that collective subconscious to manifest through his actions and his existence.

At this point, any more philosophical debating on the subject feels pretty pointless—it just looks like a way for people to try and wash their own hands of the guilt.

Edward Flores4 said:It honestly baffles me how even the smartest people often fail to see that individuals—people like Ratko Mercer—are really just symptoms of the era and the society they live in.

You need a very specific set of societal conditions for someone like that to rise through the ranks unchecked, eventually reaching a position of power where they can actually carry out such atrocities.

Nothing ever happens without warning signs, but it seems like people are constantly too blind to catch those red flags when they're waving right in their faces. When we judge Ratko Mercer, we're really just judging ourselves—because we are the very society that allowed that collective subconscious to manifest through his actions and his existence.

At this point, any more philosophical debating on the subject feels pretty pointless—it just looks like a way for people to try and wash their own hands of the guilt.

What are you even talking about?

I’m honestly not sure which part isn't clicking for you, but I’m pretty certain the issue isn't with what was actually said—it's more about how it's being interpreted.

Edward Flores4 said:It honestly baffles me how even the smartest people often fail to see that individuals—people like Ratko Mercer—are really just symptoms of the era and the society they live in.

You need a very specific set of societal conditions for someone like that to rise through the ranks unchecked, eventually reaching a position of power where they can actually carry out such atrocities.

Nothing ever happens without warning signs, but it seems like people are constantly too blind to catch those red flags when they're waving right in their faces. When we judge Ratko Mercer, we're really just judging ourselves—because we are the very society that allowed that collective subconscious to manifest through his actions and his existence.

At this point, any more philosophical debating on the subject feels pretty pointless—it just looks like a way for people to try and wash their own hands of the guilt.

I couldn't agree more; I remember talking to a friend once who said something almost identical to what you just put there, telling me, "I don't even view Karr as an individual man, but rather as a byproduct grown from the distortions of our entire culture," and honestly, she hit the nail right on the head.

At the end of the day, it’s on us to make sure we don't let that kind of evil take root again, and if there's any lesson we were supposed to learn from everything we've endured, then this really ought to be it.

So, there it is. Once we miss our window to act—once we let things spiral out of control, as you put it—all we’re left with is this desperate attempt to point fingers at individuals. It’s a hollow gesture, really, because there isn't some magical fine or punishment that can actually "undo" the collective failure of everyone involved.

It’s just another perfect example of what laws actually turn out to be in practice. To me, a law is basically just a formal admission that we were too incompetent to stop a problem from happening in the first place. Instead of stepping in to fix things while they're still developing, we just wait for the fallout, slap someone with a penalty, and perform this hypocritical outrage over individual mistakes. Meanwhile, we're all left feeling bitter, knowing deep down that no amount of legal retribution ever truly makes up for what was lost.

steelridge58, Edward Flores4. Are you seriously trying to tell me that Radovan Karr and Ratko Mercer aren't responsible? You're claiming it's just society's fault for "producing" them? What a joke. If their parents hadn't been so hard on them growing than they were kids, maybe they’d be different people. Give me a break. By that logic, Adolf Hitler isn't guilty either. He was just a product of Germany losing its pride after WWI and dealing with those massive reparations imposed by the Allies.
So, your argument is basically that we blame the system instead of the individual.
Let's test that. Suppose someone kills someone close to you, totally unprovoked. And then some guy comes along and tells you, "Hey, don't blame him—blame the society that made him." What would you say to that? Would you actually agree?