Compassion When I Cannot Offer Forgiveness

When Vincent Ritter posted some nasty things a little over six months ago, I was disturbed. His response to directly being called out was, as I said at the time, “breathtaking”. Although much of the original content has been deleted ¹, my replies were not. I feel pretty good about what I said then.

In fact, I went on to write a post about the rehashing of Vincent’s harm and role and my blog post from about a week later that still says most of what I think. It was one of my most read of 2024. ²

My ruminations were about both accountability and forgiveness. Despite that, I did not actually forgive Vincent. Shortly after I wrote that post, after continuing to read his blog for a bit to see where things went, I decided to cancel my Tinylytics subscription and unfollow his posts from the few places I paid attention.

I am not sure that his blog post today, Silence addresses the situation sufficiently enough to earn my forgiveness or support. But it is enough to earn my compassion, which I tried to exercise even back during the original events.

What does appropriate accountability look like? That’s up to each individual to decide. I felt like direct support was too much. I felt a loss of desire to interact. I, personally, did not feel that anyone who kept any kind of relationship with him must become stained with his actions. Adam sure feels that Vincent has crossed over to irredeemable. So much so that his contract employment should be at risk as a result and is seen as an endorsement of those past views. Maybe it should be. In my work place, I wouldn’t have even advocated for firing Vincent– I would have just done it on the spot. I have team members who rightfully would have felt unsafe with Vincent on their team. I don’t fuck with safety.

Vincent is a stranger to most of us, but that doesn’t mean he was a stranger to everyone. I can hold people privately to a different standard than I would or could publicly. I can hold space for people I have a richer relationship with in a different way than a stranger. Meaningful, personal relationships allow us to directly challenge one another. They also allow us to have compassion for one another.

I hope he has people to keep talking to him, to keep holding him accountable, and to keep being able to support him as a human deserving of compassion. These things can be true all at once.

It’s easy to be right in public. It’s easy to be wrong in public with conviction. It’s terribly difficult to be wrong in public and feel it and know it.