Nick Cave launched a newsletter last year to connect with his fans. They ask him questions and he replies. They want to know how “you forgive yourself for the horrible things you did to someone in the throes of addiction?” and whether there are “times your creativity disappears and if so how do you coax it back?” Grief, loneliness and religion also prey on their minds.

This week, subscribers who opened the 52nd issue of the Red Hand Files newsletter have been confronted with a homophobic comment disguised as a question. “Do you ever get tired of all the pretentious fat lesbians who enjoy your music?”, George from Alabama has asked. “Personally I enjoy a lot of your music, but I find most of your fans insufferable. I’m just wondering if you’re on the same page.”

Cave isn’t on the same page, but he writes back with empathy and humour: “Jesus said on the cross ‘Forgive them for they know not what they do.’ George, I think Jesus may have been talking directly to you.” After swiftly establishing that George was being an “asshole”, he moves on to the subject of free speech in an effort to square two beliefs: that while people should have the right to say what they want, they should also face the fallout of their words.

In six paragraphs he tackles some of the most divisive issues of our time, but there are no glib hot takes. He avoids loaded labels and the language of outrage, and as a result creates room for hope – hope for the Georges of this world and for the people, communities and societies affected by their hate. “The opportunity to act in a better way is one that is continuously afforded to us – to try to make the next thing we do the best thing, rather than the worst thing, the destructive thing,” he writes, concluding that “in this instance, George, it’s not too late for you”.

Outrage is a necessary force when a line has been crossed, especially by those with influence and power. Without it, we give destructive ideas oxygen and a free pass to become the new normal. But there is also something powerful about meeting hate with generosity – provided it’s safe to do so. Megan Rapinoe, co-captain of the US women’s football team, demonstrated this when she addressed Trump in a recent CNN interview. “Your message is excluding people,’’ she said, making eye contact with the camera. “You have an incredible responsibility as the chief of this country to take care of every single person and you need to do better for everyone.”

Malicious actors will be unmoved by her message and Trump will continue to be Trump. But by focusing on the experience of exclusion (something we all fear) and the potential for self-betterment (something many of us desire), she speaks a universal language that is difficult to dismiss. She is giving oxygen to productive ideas.

Cave’s letter landed in inboxes the same week the UK was subjected to its new prime minister. Boris Johnson is a prominent reminder of the human traits that shrink our potential and lead us in dark directions: dishonesty, arrogance, narcissism. Cave’s letter is a reminder that humans also have the capacity to be compassionate and expansive – and that’s how the light shines through.

• Eleni Stefanou is social platforms editor at the Guardian