“I’m sorry. So Sorry.

Please accept my apology.

I know I was wrong,

But I was too blind to see.”

(1960 #1 hit by fifteen-year-old Brenda Lee, written by Dub Albrittin and Ronnie Self.)

“I am a terrible person!”

The clocks changed last night and I awoke at 3:00 a.m. (old time), thinking about all the horrible things I have done in my life. At ten, I stole my sister’s boyfriend’s ring given to “go steady.” It caused great anxiety and I ultimately “found” it under a bed. I stole my Rolodex when I changed jobs at twenty-seven. I never called any of the numbers and finally threw it out forty years later. I stole my sister’s opening line at my mother’s funeral, “If my mother were here, she’d apologize for the rain.” I’ve apologized to my sister, and apparently she has forgiven me, but I still feel rotten.

All these thefts were for self-aggrandizement, to make myself feel special, more powerful, or to attract attention. I was my parents’ youngest child and the only boy, and my sisters have told me how the attention I got made them feel decidedly un-special. I have spent my life working to overcome a need for attention and an adverse reaction to authority figures, i.e., people who stop me from getting my way.

I sometimes talk too much and don’t listen enough. I think I like writing because I’m the only one in the conversation.

I am working on this and I have been for much of my life. When I mess up, and I realize it, I apologize. Some say that like my mother, I apologize too much, though I don’t often say I’m sorry for the weather.

Real leaders admit their mistakes

These days I’m not leading anything or anyone, but a lifetime of observing business leaders, doesn’t just turn off. So I observe what CEOs  and politicians say on the news:

“The rocket had a sudden unscheduled disassembly.”

“Did I say that? I never said that.”

I know there is a school of leadership that says, “Deny, deny, deny, backtrack, reclarify,  but never apologize.” I just don’t think it is very effective leadership. How will you improve if you deny your transgressions?

Admitting when you are wrong makes you human; it builds trust.

A client and I went nose to nose yelling at each other in a meeting. The next morning I apologized and offered my resignation from the project. Vince said, “Alan, you don’t get to take all the blame for our fight. I was there too, and I’m not resigning.” We each apologized publicly at the next meeting and worked together for another couple of years.

I worked for two clients at the same company who both had volcanic tempers. One regularly pulled people back together and apologized. He also employed a coach, a cognitive psychologist who helped him replace his temper triggers with a “pause and a breath”. He got a lot better in the year that I knew him and I heard he was promoted to senior management about three years later.

The other leader “explained to people why he lost his temper,” so they could correct their behavior. I’ve written about Will before. He was really smart, highly verbal, and got good results. Everyone said he’d be CEO. Instead, three years after we worked together, he was fired “for cause,” which phrase cost him a substantial amount of money from his contract “golden handshake.”

Learning to apologize is a career building skill for leaders. Doing it well takes some practice.

Bad Apologies:

• Take too long coming: As close to the event as possible is best. And apologies lose their value in direct proportion to the number of people telling you to apologize or punishing you for your behavior. Will Smith taking six months to apologize for slapping Chris Rock on the stage at the 2022 Oscars substantially reduced apology effectiveness.
• Blame the victim: “I’m sorry you reacted negatively to what I said.”
• Justify your behavior: “I’m sorry, but. . . what you said. . . you don’t understand. . . What did you expect. . .”
• Apologize in private for public sins. Humiliating someone in front of the whole office and then saying “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that,” when standing at the rest room sink might not be well received.
• Go overboard: Saying “I’m a terrible person” is a bit too much for a ten-year-old’s transgressions, even if they’re part of a worrying pattern.

Good apologies:

• Mean it: The reflexive “Sorry” as the person knocks you over to board the bus ahead of you isn’t believed. You have to feel and show remorse and concern.
• Admit what you did or said that was wrong: “I know I said we were out of inventory, but it turns out we are storing that in the clean room and I overlooked the email that explained that.”
• Actually say “I’m sorry” or I apologize: Not “my bad” or “Whoopsy”
• Take action to correct the problem: “I’m sorry. Let me reimburse you.” Or “I’m sorry, let’s get you to the hospital,” will be better received than “Oops, my fault.”
• Ensure it won’t happen again: Sometimes saying “I’ll work on that,” is enough. Sometimes you have to back up your promise with the system or process to prevent recurrence. Multiple apologies for the same repeated offense are rarely believed.

Maybe I’m not a terrible person, just an imperfect human. If I ever talked over you in a meeting, or insensitively failed to listen to you or respect your opinion, “I’m sorry, so sorry. Please accept my apology,” (with apologies to Brenda Lee, Dub Albritten and Ronnie Self for expropriating the words of their song).

Oh, and leaders, while you’re learning to apologize, learn to give credit where credit is due. “We” is always better than “I,” except when you apologize.