Sunday, February 18, 2024

How to Apologize

Jancee Dunn wants to teach us all how best to apologize. When you err, when you offend or insult, and did not mean to do so, you apologize. 

Writing in the New York Times, Dunn asked a number of academic experts. She would have done better to have consulted with the Times ethicist columnist, Kwame Anthony Appiah. 


Approximately five years ago, as I dutifully reported on my blog, Appiah was responding to a letter from a woman who asked whether she should apologize to a former husband she dumped some four decades ago. She felt that she had been unfair to him and thus believed that she owed him an apology.


Now, Appiah nixed the project, for a simple reason. The purpose of apology, he writes, is to repair a relationship. The relationship in question has long since gone beyond repair. And thus, an apology simply recalled an unpleasant situation, without there being any chance for repair.


In his words:


You may think it’s very unlikely that this man will want to re-establish the relationship, and if that’s so, the only serious effect of the apology will be to cause him whatever distress might come from revisiting a painful episode or whatever relief might come from your “it’s not you, it’s me” assurances. Neither the fact that, in some sense, you owe him an apology nor the fact that apologizing might make you feel better settles the matter of what you should do. In short, the answer to your question is: No, apology isn’t always the ethical choice. When an apology from the remote past would simply unearth anguished memories, the right choice may be reticence.


He is quite correct. Any apology offered after decades would merely be a means of virtue signaling, designed to make the woman feel better, without really accomplishing anything. At present, both parties are happily married to other people, so there is nothing to be salvaged by this point. Thus, if nothing is left to be repaired, the best approach is to forget all about it.


When you apologize you take responsibility for your dereliction. You do not make an excuse or try to rationalize your error. You do not shift the blame. 


That means, you do not blame the traffic. You do not say that you had to take your children to the hospital. In truth, when you apologize you take complete responsibility for your behavior.


And this is true even when, for example, you were late because you got hit by a truck while walking across the street. You might say that it is not your fault that the truck veered into you, but, when you awake from your coma you are going to apologize, and take responsibility for your absence.


This precludes your using phrasing like: I’m sorry if you are offended. You apologize when you are sorry for what you did, not for how the other person reacted.


But that is not all. By apologizing you are saying that your actions do not represent your intentions and do not manifest your character. The only way to affirm that position is to swear that you are not going to do it again. The value of an apology does not lie so much in the shame you manifest as in the actions that you do not take in the future.


An apology implies that one will not do it again. It also implies that you did not do it in the first place. To ensure that your action does not show anything about your character, you should, the Times says, state explicitly that you will not repeat the offense.


If you make a habit of not showing up on time for meetings, your apologies become null. 


When you apologize you are giving your word. If you go back on your word, by repeating the same error, your action becomes a meaningful expression of your attitude toward the other person. You did not offend him inadvertently. You offended him intentionally. At that point, you have not repaired the relationship; you have redefined it in terms of exploitation. The question then becomes, will he allow you to get away with mistreating him.


Consider the following situation. An executive who has not led his company successfully might apologize for his poor leadership. In some places he will bow his head in shame and resign in disgrace. In short, he will be paying a price for his failure. He will not go about it as though nothing happened, as though he should just continue doing what he was doing.


One recalls that one Janet Reno, when she was the Attorney General in the Clinton administration, gave an order that produced a holocaust of members of a cult called the Branch Davidians. Dozens of people died in the fire and Janet Reno felt very bad about it. She made manifest her shame in a Congressional hearing.


And yet, she then continued as though nothing had happened. She did not pay a price. That means, her apology was more theatrical than real, regardless of how she felt.


Now, the experts suggest that the person who apologizes should be forgiven. But, that depends on the nature of the offense. Should we have all forgiven Janet Reno for her poor judgment? Surely, she did not intend to produce a Holocaust, but still she is responsible for the mass murder of the followers of David Koresh.


At the time, if I recall, most people blamed Koresh, not Reno.


When a leader fails, when he leads the Light Brigade into the valley of the shadow of death, he cannot simply apologize. He must resign his commission. In many cases, he will perform the ultimate altruistic action and fall on his sword. 


Depending on circumstances, he will either retire from his commission forever or for a reasonable period of time.  In case he commits the ultimate altruistic action, he is assuring that he will not do it again.


Obviously, this is the ultimate in altruistic actions. When you resign your position you are ensuring that you cannot make the same error again-- because you will never again be in the position to do so. 


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