When news broke that New York lawmaker George Santos was expelled from the House of Representatives, I remarked to some friends that I actually felt some sympathy for him.
Was I angry with him for allegedly violating campaign finance law, blatantly lying to the House about his alleged crimes and, most seriously, undermining the democratic integrity of the United States? Yes.
But I figured that this was likely the lowest point of Mr. Santos’s life—I would be pretty mortified if I became the first Republican and the sixth-ever politician to be removed from the House. It is hard not to feel sorry for people when you think they have hit rock bottom, even if they managed to get there on their own.
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness,” 1 Jn 1:9 tells us. God would forgive Mr. Santos if he apologized. Why couldn’t I try to do the same?
“If we can’t or shouldn’t forgive an unrepentant person like Santos or Roof, that means God gets to decide if they’re really forgiven or not.”
But it is hard to forgive someone who is not sorry for what he or she has done. I (maybe naïvely) expected Mr. Santos to express regret for defrauding his constituents and to then exit the public stage. Instead, he has threatened to exact revenge on his former Republican colleagues, claiming that he is going to “clean up Congress of its corrupt frauds.”
Perhaps even more brazenly, Mr. Santos has also joined the video platform Cameo, which allows customers to script and pay the former representative to record statements such as: “The haters are going to hate. They can boot me out of Congress but they can’t take away my good humor or my larger-than-life personality nor my good faith and the absolute pride I have for everything I’ve done.”
That Mr. Santos would post such a statement online, even if he was paid to do so, was shocking to me. After all, this is a man who could serve a prison sentence comparable to that for first-degree murder.
Kaya Oakes, the author of a book on forgiveness titled Not So Sorry: Abusers, False Apologies, and the Limits of Forgiveness, coming in 2024, spoke with America about Mr. Santos over email.
“There is a lot of hubris in terms of how celebrities and public figures like George Santos behave, a lot of ‘getting away with it,’ so that extends to their decision not to ask for forgiveness,” Ms. Oakes said. “I don’t know if Santos has been officially diagnosed by any psychologists, but his propensity for fabulism along with the way he doesn’t show any remorse seems like it might fit the definition of narcissism according to the research I’ve done.”
One of the main characteristics of narcissism, she noted, “is an inflated sense of self-importance, and that can lead people to refuse to see they’ve done anything wrong. That in turn can mean they don’t feel they’re owed forgiveness.”
Mr. Santos’s possible narcissistic tendencies reminded me of a man that Mr. Santos won’t rest until he sees back in the White House: Donald J. Trump. Like Mr. Santos, Mr. Trump (who is also battling four indictments) has sought to monetize his political scandal by selling memorabilia of his mugshot to the tune of more than $7 million. To Ms. Oakes’s point of the feeling that public figures can easily “get away with” things, Mr. Santos’s and Mr. Trump’s actions certainly share some parallels.
“It’s important to consider that before we offer forgiveness to someone, it's equally important to spend some time in discernment before we offer it as well.”
What advice would Ms. Oakes give to someone who expects a sincere apology and never receives one, no matter what the situation is? “This is not going to be a popular opinion with some readers, but if a person doesn’t show any remorse, I don’t think they’re necessarily owed forgiveness,” she said. “When Jesus talks about forgiveness in the Gospels, the original Greek word he uses is aphiēmi, which can mean letting go of something, but it can also mean putting distance between yourself and the person who’s harmed you.”
For some people, Ms. Oakes noted, that can mean taking their time to forgive, waiting for an apology or a sign of remorse, or even “choosing to be a ‘moral unforgiver,’ which the psychologist Jeanne Safer argues can be a way of seeking justice. By choosing not to forgive, you refuse to let someone off the hook. Of course, lots of people are also just tired of George Santos at this point, so putting some distance between themselves and him can also be a healthy choice.”
I can only imagine being one of the people who donated to Mr. Santos’ campaign only to see their donations go toward designer clothing. If I were in their shoes, I think an apology may be one of the only things that still keeps my faith in democracy alive.
Is the act of forgiveness even possible if forgiveness is given but not taken in?
But even if I forgave Mr. Santos, he doesn’t know I exist; can this truly be forgiveness even if it is never received?
“Another way to frame this is asking ourselves, if someone is unrepentant or unapologetic, should we forgive them?” Ms. Oakes responded. “Dylann Roof, who killed nine people at the Charleston church shooting in 2015, has been completely unrepentant and has refused to apologize. The families of the victims still forgave him, but given his attitude, did they need to? One argument some theologians make is that God forgives no matter what, so if we can’t or shouldn’t forgive an unrepentant person like Santos or Roof, that means God gets to decide if they’re really forgiven or not.”
Asking everyone to be universally forgiving, she noted, “can be, in some senses, asking everyone to be like God. That’s not wise. And on the opposite hand, I do think forgiveness can be wasted on someone who isn’t going to receive it. It’s important to consider that before we offer it to someone, and equally important to spend some time in discernment before we offer it as well.”
I feel frustrated that Mr. Santos’s actions were not met with more widespread calls for him to apologize, but also comforted in Ms. Oakes’s reminder that sometimes, seeking forgiveness from other humans can be futile; in the end, it is not up to us to make ultimate judgments of character. For now, I can hope that Mr. Santos receives justice for his crimes—whether he is seeking to be forgiven or not.
