The Wolves.

A Different Way: Building Justice on Forgiveness Instead of Punishment

Last week, I responded to a student’s question about what could be done to address problems in our justice system. That same student asked another equally important question:

“Can the prison system itself be modernised?”

That question stayed with me.

It led me to think beyond reforms, beyond policies, and beyond simply improving prisons. It led me to a far bigger question:

What if we have been building justice on the wrong foundation all along?

What if the problem is not merely how we punish people—but that we begin with punishment at all?

What if society chose a different path?

What if justice were built, not on revenge, but on forgiveness?

Not on punishment, but on restoration?

Not on hatred, but on love?

This may sound radical. Some may even say impossible.

But perhaps the most radical idea is believing that what we currently do is working.

Because it clearly is not.

Crime and Punishment: The Old Foundation

Since the beginning of civilisation, society has viewed wrongdoing through two words:

Crime

and

Punishment

These two words shape our laws, our prisons, our courts, and often our attitudes toward one another.

Break the rules—receive punishment.

It sounds simple.

But is it right?

Even in the very beginning of human history, before nations, governments, or prisons existed, there were already rules.

In the beginning, society consisted of only two people.

Yet even then, boundaries existed—rules designed not for oppression, but for protection.

Rules that preserved peace, joy, happiness, safety, and harmony.

When those rules were broken, history records it as the first “crime,” followed by the first “punishment.”

But was that really what happened?

Or have we misunderstood the very foundation?

The Hebrew Meaning of Sin: Missing the Mark

The Hebrew word often translated as “sin” is:

חטא (chata)

Its root meaning is not “evil” as we often think.

It means:

“to miss the mark”

or

“to fail”

or

“to miss the target”

It depicts an archer aiming at the bullseye and missing.

Not necessarily rebellion.

Not necessarily wickedness.

But failure.

Deviation.

Falling short.

Missing what was intended.

It means:

• missing God’s intended path

• falling short of righteousness

• moral failure

• deviation from what is right

This changes everything.

Because suddenly, wrongdoing is not simply an act deserving revenge.

It is a person who has gone off course.

And when someone misses the mark, the purpose should not be destruction—

But correction.

Punishment: Revenge or Restoration?

I asked myself:

“Can it be said that punishment should mean a desire by the guilty person to correct their ways and become a good citizen again because of the guilt they feel?”

The answer was yes—but with an even deeper meaning.

The Hebrew view of punishment is not simply pain imposed by authority.

It is the consequence of wrongdoing leading a person toward:

• recognition

• correction

• repentance

• restoration

Another Hebrew word helps explain this:

תשובה (teshuvah)

It means:

“return”

Not just feeling sorry.

Not just regret.

But turning back.

Returning to the right path.

Returning to the community.

Returning to peace.

Returning to truth.

This is a very different idea from modern punishment.

It is not:

“You have done wrong, now suffer.”

It is:

“You have gone wrong—now come back.”

That is justice.

That is healing.

That is civilisation.

Where We Went Wrong

Unfortunately, somewhere in history—perhaps because of fear, violence, greed, or survival—human law chose another path.

Instead of restoration, we chose retribution.

Instead of healing, we chose punishment.

Instead of forgiveness, we chose revenge.

Laws became systems of classification:

This crime deserves this sentence.

That crime deserves that sentence.

Years were assigned.

Labels were attached.

People were reduced to their worst moments.

And society felt satisfied because punishment had been delivered.

But ask yourself honestly:

Has punishment made us safer?

Have prisons reduced violence?

Have longer sentences created better people?

Have broken people been restored?

Or have we simply created better criminals, deeper anger, and generational damage?

Perhaps the system does not fail because it is poorly managed.

Perhaps it fails because it was built on the wrong foundation.

A Society of Forgiveness

So what would happen if we changed the foundation?

What if society itself became a society of forgiveness?

Not weakness.

Not excuses.

Not ignoring harm.

But genuine forgiveness with genuine accountability.

Instead of punishment, we would focus on lovingly guiding people back to the “straight and narrow.”

Society’s relationship with its citizens would reflect the same relationship a good parent has with a child.

When a child breaks a rule, the goal is not revenge.

The goal is understanding.

Correction.

Growth.

The child is reminded of what is right.

If they understand, accept responsibility, and show willingness to obey, then healing begins.

Why should society be any different?

If a person breaks society’s rules, they should first be reminded of those rules and given the opportunity to show genuine remorse and willingness to live rightly.

If that change is real, then restoration should be the goal.

Not destruction.

Not permanent condemnation.

Restoration.

Serious Harm Requires Serious Proof

Of course, the more serious the offence, the more careful society must be.

When people’s safety, dignity, and lives are at stake, the test of genuine change must be far stronger.

Forgiveness does not mean naïveté.

It means wisdom.

If there is doubt about genuine remorse, then the question becomes:

What is needed to create real change?

Perhaps medical help.

Perhaps trauma treatment.

Perhaps education.

Perhaps addiction recovery.

Perhaps mental health intervention.

Perhaps life skills.

Perhaps spiritual guidance.

The issue is no longer:

“How long should we punish?”

but rather:

“What is needed for restoration?”

That is a far more intelligent question.

No Sentences—Only Readiness

If someone must be removed from society for safety, then removal should not be based on a fixed sentence.

It should be based on readiness to return.

This is perhaps the most radical part of the idea.

There would be no arbitrary “five years,” “ten years,” or “life sentence” decided by calendar alone.

Instead:

Release would depend on genuine rehabilitation.

If change happens quickly, return happens quickly.

If change never happens, release never happens.

Not because society is cruel—

But because society must remain safe.

This protects both justice and mercy.

A dangerous person is not released because a date arrives.

A healed person is not kept imprisoned because a date has not yet arrived.

That is true justice.

Prison Would No Longer Be Prison

The place of residence for those separated from society would no longer be punishment centres.

They would be:

medical facilities

or

educational facilities

Places where people receive what they need to return safely.

Not torture.

Not degradation.

Not hopelessness.

But treatment.

Learning.

Correction.

Growth.

Yes, freedom would be restricted.

But purpose would replace despair.

The focus would not be:

“You are here because we hate you.”

but

“You are here because we want you to return safely.”

That changes everything.

My Own Lesson in Forgiveness

Some people will say:

“That sounds noble—but some things cannot be forgiven.”

I understand that argument.

I lived it.

I was wrongfully convicted of murder.

I lost years of my life in prison for something I did not do.

I know injustice personally.

I know the cost.

I know the anger such things can create.

And yet—

I sit here reading a book titled "Australian Prayers" and two Christmas cards from 1991 and 1992 given to me by one of the men involved in putting me there, who was a man I later loved like a brother.

Sir Ronald Wilson.

A respected High Court Judge.

A man admired across Australia.

A man who, decades earlier, had almost fallen to his knees begging a jury to hang me.

A man who wanted me dead.

A man who, after my conviction, even refused my parents a few final minutes to see me in the cells beneath the Supreme Court before I was taken away to prison.

Yet years later, I loved him deeply.

He gave me guidance.

Wisdom.

Friendship.

I personally thanked the judge who delivered the eulogy at his funeral for describing him truthfully as a godly man.

Forgiveness is not a theory.

It is a choice.

And it is powerful.

The Two Wolves

There is an old story of an Indian chief speaking to his grandson.

He says:

“Inside each of us are two wolves.

One is hateful. One is loving. They spend their whole lives fighting.”

The child asks:

“Grandpa, which one wins?”

The old chief replies:

“The one you feed.”

That is wisdom.

That is justice.

That is life.

We all choose which wolf we feed.

The hateful wolf of revenge.

Or the loving wolf of forgiveness.

No one else makes that choice for us.

Not government.

Not courts.

Not society.

Us.

Individually.

Daily.

Always.

Final Thought

Never point the finger at the culprit first.

First, point your finger at yourself.

Ask:

Which wolf am I feeding?

If we truly want a better justice system, we must first become a better society.

Because prisons are only mirrors.

They reflect the values of the people who build them.

If society is built on anger, prisons will be built on punishment.

If society is built on forgiveness, justice will be built on restoration.

I began by saying this could only work if society changed to one of forgiveness and love.

I still believe that.

And perhaps that is where real reform begins.

Not in Parliament.

Not in courts.

Not in prisons.

But in the human heart.

Because justice without forgiveness is only revenge wearing a uniform