Sorry state
The magical power of apology
By Kris Frieswick
One night, I arrived to have dinner at the home of my dear friends Jim and
Janice, and as I entered, I sensed a certain negative energy. They weren’t
involved in a fight just yet, but there was that low-grade tension that one
senses could erupt into a full-scale marital melee at any moment. Janice’s
countenance was drawn up into a tightlipped blame face. She was pissed, but
she was obviously going to make Jim and me guess why. She angrily chopped
carrots with an unnecessarily large knife at the kitchen counter.
Fortunately, Jim seemed clued in to the problem. He walked up behind her,
put his hands on her shoulders, and said quietly, “Honey, I’m sorry.”
Without a moment’s pause, Janice hit him with the classic apology killer:
“Sure you are. Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”
“Of course I do,” he responded sincerely. “And it won’t happen again.”
Janice paused briefly, turned around, and looked up at him. “It better
not,” she said, and she reached up and hugged him. Then she headed into
the pantry, smacking him on the butt as she passed. When she was out of
earshot, Jim turned to me with a relieved expression on his face. I
whispered, “What the hell was that all about?”
“I have no idea,” Jim said.
“Then why did you apologize?” I asked.
“Because that’s all she really wanted.”
Here was a man who realized that often, it is more important to be
contrite than right. Jim knew what most men know. That no matter the
cause, the quickest way to stop a fight in its tracks is to apologize,
even if you are unclear about the nature of your alleged offense. (Just
make it sincere, or be prepared to incur wrath even more wrathful than
that incited by the original offense — whatever that was.)
One man who obviously knows these eternal truths is Jesse Jackson. His
immediate and seemingly heartfelt apology for an extramarital affair —
which resulted in a child with a former co-worker — and his decision
(later rescinded) to withdraw temporarily from public life showed that
the man was paying attention during “How To Make Bad Things Go Away”
class.
The nation was shocked, but his immediate decision to plead out his
case put the issue to bed. We as a nation spent five days, max, talking
about it. We aren’t obsessed. We aren’t wringing our hands. We aren’t
looking for blood or a whipping boy. He’s already whipped himself. His
apology beat us to the punch and effectively stamped this matter
“personal,” and that’s what it will remain until his wife announces that
she’s filing for divorce — and then we can read all the gory details in
her memoirs.
Bill Clinton, on the other hand, skipped class that day in fourth grade
when they gave all the boys the apology class (and the girls were herded
off to watch the slide show about the blame face). When the Lewinsky
scandal broke, his accusers were mostly just looking for him to admit,
before God and Hillary, that he had screwed an intern. Had he done so,
instead of attempting to cover up his gaffe, I believe that the country
would have been spared a year-long special investigation of alleged
perjury and his resulting impeachment. Instead, he would have been
roundly spanked and put to bed without dinner, and, in the end, this
matter would have been stamped “personal,” instead of “felony.”
But even Clinton, with his eventual Lewinsky apology and his recent
mea culpa about lying under oath, has become a convert to the power of
“I’m sorry.” And he’s not alone. It seems the nation has finally caught
on to the fact that apologies work — not only with knife-wielding wives,
but in many situations. Even though it took 50 years, the Vatican
finally apologized (sort of) for the Catholic Church’s complicity with
Nazi Germany. Ford and Firestone also (sort of) apologized for
producing a product that killed scores of people. Even doctors are
starting to say “I’m sorry” when they screw up and someone gets hurt.
What took them so long? For one thing, the sad truth is that in most
states (and in many relationships), an apology can be used in court as
evidence of liability in negligence cases. That’s a big incentive to
keep your damn mouth shut.
Ironically, studies show that if people learned to apologize as soon as
they screw up, they might not have to face the negligence suits. One
study showed that 70 percent of litigants in negligence cases are not
seeking money; more often than not, they just want an apology. Malpractice
cases plummeted at one hospital when it established a policy of apologizing
as soon as an error was discovered. States are starting to catch on. Many
are considering a rule that would protect “benevolent gestures” like
apologies from becoming admissible in court as evidence of liability.
Massachusetts was one of the first states to pass such a rule.
You don’t have to wait for a new law to start exercising the magical
power of apology in your personal life right now. If it catches on,
maybe our overly litigious nation will learn how to forgive and move
on without the help of a large cash settlement. Who knew that a simple
“I’m sorry” could go so far? Well, I guess Jim and Jesse knew. Like the
man said, sometimes an apology is all we really want.
Kris Frieswick can be reached at krisf1@gte.net.