Are we in danger of losing the gift of forgiveness?

How many times, I wonder, have I clumsily knocked over my drink, omitted to perform some trivial chore, or forgotten to get in touch with someone I promised to phone? What can I say? You couldn’t begin to count them. That’s because I’m careless.

We all are. Some more so than others, but carelessness is part of our humanity, part of our frailty.

If our children carelessly knock over and break something precious or valuable we might well get angry. We might even insist that they make restitution by paying for a replacement. But we’d be pretty harsh to spank them. Because there was no intent. It was an accident.

Unfortunately, in the increasingly secular, litigation-rich world in which we live there’s no such thing as an accident. Everything is somebody’s fault. We all need to descend on the offender like a pack of wolves and rip them apart. We need to smell blood.

For an illustration of this, look no further than the Government’s announcement of a new offence of causing death by careless driving, for which drivers could face up to five years in prison.

Let me say at once that I do not approve of those who drive dangerously, nor those who drink while doing so. But we are not talking here about aggressive driving or downing eight pints before getting behind the wheel. We are talking of a moment’s inattention or misjudgment ending in tragedy.

I understand the anger of victims. If a careless driver knocked down my wife, hanging would be too good for them. When someone dies suddenly, tragically, there is the constant ache of opportunities missed, potential not fulfilled, days not lived. Yes, I would be red with anger. But victims make very poor lawmakers, for that very reason.

Victim support groups are right to make people aware of the pain and anguish their members suffer. All too often, however, their calls for “justice” suggest a very different, far uglier word. Vengeance.

If you have accidentally taken someone else’s life, how must that feel? If you are anywhere near being a decent, sentient human being, you won’t need me to provide the answer. Will anything be made any better by splitting up another family? There can be no argument of deterrent. Look in the mirror. This could happen to you, someone you know, someone you love. Tomorrow, perhaps.

Of course there should be natural consequences. A heavy fine. A lengthy driving ban. All that sounds like justice to me. But prison? That sounds like vengeance.

And a society built on vengeance will eventually tear itself to shreds.