Don't Apologize Unless You Mean It

I stabbed a kid once.

We were cleaning gear from a Boy Scout campout in the Methodist church kitchen and Jon Perkins and I got to horsing around, at which point I picked up a butcher knife and pretended to terrorize him, chasing him around the room. He stopped short and the blade sank about a half-inch deep into the skin between his shoulder blades. I was mortified, and probably apologized a dozen times (breathlessly, I might add) as the Scoutmaster pondered disciplinary action.

Now, that incident made an impression on me and I never stabbed anyone again. But most apologies pass our lips and are quickly forgotten. You probably apologize to a spouse or close family member several times a week, but can you remember the situation?

My wife and I have a solid marriage of 31 years. But we have a fundamental disagreement about apologies. I will admit I’m the flawed one. I want to apologize and move on; she wants me to apologize, then demonstrate over time how I’m working to change my ways. I want the quick closure an apology brings. Check the box and move on. She has feelings (of course) and isn’t easily placated by the utterance of a few words in a solicitous tone of voice.

When it comes to politicians, CEOs, athletes and celebrities, the public seems to favor my wife’s point of view. A simple spoken apology is inadequate; we are loathe to forgive unless the person backs it up with action.

My personal favorite is “I’m sorry if I offended anyone.” Seriously, you’re going to make it conditional?

These forms of mea culpa do nothing more than provoke further outrage. Instead of dousing the fire with water, they add gasoline:

• Lance Armstrong apologized, but failed to answer the question “Did you dope?” Grade: F.
• New Jersey Governor Chris Christie apologized multiple times, but has it changed anything? Grade: D-.
• Target CEO Gregg Steinhafel apologized for allowing hackers to steal our personal data. I'm willing to give him an “Incomplete” because it’s too early to tell how effective the company’s remediation will be, and more will surely come out during litigation.

These tepid apologies fail to score points with the public, yes. But, they also offer a lesson of how not to do it.

Andrew Ross Sorkin and Dov Seidman are putting the offenders under the microscope. Sorkin, a New York Times writer and Seidman, an advisor to companies on how to operate “in a principled and profitable way,” have declared a moratorium on apologies until we get it right. No more apologies, they say, until public figures and their PR people accompany every apology with an explanation of the steps taken to correct the problem.

They’ve asked us (yes, you and me) to make a note next time we hear a public apology and check back over time to see if the person truly made good on their word. They’ve even suggested a “time out” (I know, it sounds like CEOs are children), a go-to-your-corner and think about it before you issue another apology.

You can read more about it here and here. Let’s see if the increased public scrutiny works.

My advice to a client is: Your apology has to be sincere. And, you’d better have a three-, four- or five-point plan for change and start acting on it. You can even regain lost credibility down the road by periodically pointing out the positive change you’ve made – whether it’s treating workers better, restoring impeccable accounting or resolving customer complaints.

To Jon Perkins, wherever you are: I’m glad that knife in the back didn’t damage our relationship. I can’t comment, however, on which is worse: a real knife in the back or a figurative one.

Just do it: It pays to move your story from the telling to the doing

Long before television, newspapers and the town crier, our ancestors shared experiences by telling stories. The ancient storyteller had only his voice and words, but if he used the right words and told his story with conviction that was enough.

In our current world we put a premium on storytelling. What’s old is new again.

Marketers and communicators have rediscovered this art, with great success. It’s far more effective to tell about a customer’s experience with your brand than to simply tout the virtues of your product. You don’t have to look far to find examples of great storytelling. The shy kid going solo to prom is emboldened by driving dad’s Audi. A winery owner tells how Prudential helped him start his business.

Along comes the turbocharged version called “storydoing.” In a recent HBR blog about this phenomenon, Ty Montague says storytelling through advertising isn’t enough. A whole new class of companies is emerging, he says, that “advance their narrative through action.” While it’s difficult to define the model, you know it when you see it. Your experience with a storydoing company is so memorable you want to tell a friend – or two or three. Characteristics of such a company, according to Montague, are:

• They have a story
• The story is about a larger ambition to make the world or people's lives better
• The story is understood and cared about by senior leadership outside of marketing
• That story is being used to drive tangible action throughout the company: product development, HR policies, compensation, etc.
• These actions add back up to a cohesive whole
• Customers and partners are motivated to engage with the story and are actively using it to advance their own stories

Montague took a whole slew of prominent companies and divided them into two groups – those that fit the criteria and those that don’t – and examined their revenue, share price and other financial metrics along with quantity and quality of social media mentions. Not surprisingly, the storydoing companies outperformed the pack. Think Target, Disney, Starbucks, American Express, Apple, Jet Blue and IBM. 

My latest fave is Trader Joe’s. They’ve made my life better in numerous ways and that’s probably why I don’t hesitate to share my experience – like when I shopped at a new location and had to ask practically every associate where to find something. Instead of being ashamed, I was proud to tell my Facebook friends, because I wanted them to know every associate treated me cheerfully and I’m kind of proud to tell people I shop at Trader Joe’s.

Point is, storydoing companies partner with their customers to create a unique experience – and customers come away delighted, energized and inspired to talk about it. It’s a phenomenon as old as time, re-imagined and reinvigorated by a high octane fuel called social media.        

What do you think? Is there a brand, company or product that you'd shout about from the mountaintops?