Thich Nhat Hanh addresses whether we must forgive everything by reframing forgiveness as a practice rooted in understanding, not blind absolution. He teaches that unskillfulness—lack of awareness or skill—causes harm in all of us, and forgiveness becomes possible when we recognize the deep suffering in the person who has hurt us, understanding that they are the primary victim of their own suffering. Rather than forgive passively, he encourages active partnership in growth: asking those who harm us to warn us before we repeat unskillful patterns and reminding us afterward so we can learn. Without this understanding of the other person's inner struggle, forgiveness is intellectually impossible, no matter how much we wish it.
Does everyone commit unskillful acts, or just some people?
According to Thich Nhat Hanh, unskillfulness is universal. "All of us are unskilful at times" (0:71). When we lack skill or awareness, we inevitably suffer ourselves and cause others to suffer. He emphasizes that unskillfulness "is something that happened to everyone" (0:96). This is not moral judgment—it is a recognition that being human means sometimes acting and speaking without adequate understanding or awareness. The person we love may be the recipient of our unskillful acts, and this matters because it shapes how we approach forgiveness: if we all commit unskillfulness, we cannot hold ourselves above those who harm us.
Why is forgiveness alone insufficient?
Thich Nhat Hanh makes a crucial distinction: wanting to be forgiven is natural, but "that is not enough. We have to learn from our unskilfulness" (0:136–139). Forgiveness without learning perpetuates harmful patterns. He proposes a more practical model in which the person harmed does not simply absolve, but actively partners in the other person's growth.
He describes asking for support in specific language: "Dear one, I am unskilful at times. So when I say something or do something unskilful, I suffer and I make you suffer. It is very kind of you to forgive me, but I'd like to ask you a favour: that when I am about to say something or to do something unskilful, please warn me" (0:169–202). This shifts the relationship from victim-perpetrator to collaborators in practice. The partner is asked to remind us before we act, and again afterward: "not only you forgive me, but you help me, you remind me that this is unskilfulness, so that next time I will not repeat the same type" (0:216–237). Through this active partnership, unskillfulness begins to transform into skill.
How does understanding suffering change the capacity to forgive?
The second pillar of Thich Nhat Hanh's teaching is that "in order to forgive, you have to see the suffering and the unskilfulness of the other person" (0:257–266). This is not sentimentality; it is clear seeing. When someone harms us, our first impulse is often to assume malice: they wanted to hurt us. Thich Nhat Hanh invites a different perception. "The other person may not want to hurt us, to make us suffer, it's only that she has, or he has a lot of unskilfulness" (0:272–281). When we recognize this truth—that the harm stems from their lack of awareness, not their desire to wound us—anger naturally loosens.
But there is a deeper layer. He teaches us to look beneath the unskillful act itself and see the suffering that generates it. "When we look at him or her and see the suffering in that person, which is at the base of all kinds of act and words that make you suffer" (0:305–319), something shifts. The person who harms us is not well. They are struggling with inner pain they cannot manage. "When we know that that person is not capable of handling, of taking care of the suffering in him or in her, they become a victim of the suffering, and we are only victim number 2 or number 3 only" (0:331–345). This is a radical reframing: we are not the primary victim. The person who hurt us is the primary victim of their own unhealed pain.
What happens when we recognize the other person as victim number one?
Once this recognition settles in, forgiveness becomes not a forced spiritual exercise but a natural response. "When we are able to see the suffering in him or in her, and see that that person is victim of his own suffering, and then it's easy to forgive" (0:356–365). Thich Nhat Hanh distills the practice into three components: "Recognize the suffering. Understanding the suffering. And having the desire to help that person to suffer less, that'll help you to forgive very easily" (0:372–381).
The inverse is also true. "Without that kind of understanding, forgiveness is difficult. Even if you want to forgive, you cannot forgive" (0:386–389). Intellectual willpower alone cannot generate forgiveness when the mind still perceives the other as a malicious actor. He acknowledges the real difficulty: "Because he or she has made you suffer so many times, so, so many times, and even you have warned him or her, and they still continue to make you suffer, it's difficult to forgive" (0:394–408). Yet when we shift from analyzing behavior to understanding the suffering beneath it, "the situation becomes different. You can forgive more easily" (0:420–423).
Where to go from here
Thich Nhat Hanh's teaching invites a reorientation of how we approach harm and healing. Rather than asking "Should I forgive?" we might ask: "What suffering in this person led to their unskillfulness?" This inquiry opens the door to both compassion and practical accountability. The practice is not to become a doormat—Thich Nhat Hanh emphasizes the need to warn and remind, to actively participate in the other person's growth. Instead, forgiveness becomes a mature response grounded in clear seeing: recognizing that the person who hurt you is imprisoned by their own pain, and that helping them suffer less serves both of you.
