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.

Big Bird Apologizes

We see it all the time. Athletes, celebrities and politicians caught in embarrassing, compromising or downright felonious situations. Rarely is it a victimless crime; someone has been harmed or wronged. The public makes sport of speculating as to what really happened and why the act was committed.

Regardless of what we think the punishment should be, we demand an apology. Often we are disappointed when said apology is delivered: the half-hearted mumbling, the attempt to place blame on others or the equally flaccid “I’m sorry if I offended anyone.”

This isn’t about those creatures who relish the glare of the spotlight, however – the Miley Cyruses and Anthony Weiners. I’m thinking of a product or a brand and what happens when said company owns up to a mistake. We may be ambivalent about or even unaware of said brand until we see the apology. What happens then is magical. We find ourselves not only thinking of that brand but starting to admire it – like the song that grows on you the more you hear it.

     

I came across something downright charming the other day. It wasn’t an admission of any epic proportion – rather, it was a self-effacing apology for a victimless “crime.” Sesame Workshop, the nonprofit educational organization behind Sesame Street, posted this notice on its web site when it failed to fulfill its promise of a sale on iTunes apps. Here it is in case you don’t want to click to the site:

Oops.

From September 13th to 15th, we intended to run a special three-day sale in the iTunes App Store. “Intended” is the operative word there, because we made a mistake somehow. Everything went wrong, Sesame Street Muppet chickens went crazy, Telly lost his triangle, Cookie Monster ran out of cookies, and most importantly, the three-day sale only lasted two days. The Count is very upset with us — he really wanted to count to three! (ah ha ha).

So to make it up to him (and all of you who thought you were getting discounted stuff, but weren’t), tomorrow, Saturday September 21st, we’re running a one-day, line-wide, Sesame Street app sale! Click here to open the iTunes App Store and see all of our apps!

It’s tough to harbor ill will toward Sesame Street after you read that. You’re more than willing to forgive because – let’s face it – Big Bird & Co. have amassed a mountain of goodwill over the years. The message is appropriate and reflects the brand. Heck, it’s fun. Not to say you can excuse an egregious violation of law or ethics with a whimsical haiku or limerick. Like the punishment fitting the crime, the apology must fit the transgression.    

Thank you, Sesame Street. You never stop teaching us things.