The Endgame

Newsletter #27 - Overdue apologies

Toronto, June 4, 2023

Overdue apologies

Rosa Schweriner - The Apology

Did you ever treat someone badly? Of course you did. Everyone’s done that. Did you apologize quickly and properly? Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. If you didn’t, and you’re a decent person (and you are), this failure may prey on your mind as time goes by. You may sometimes wake up at night thinking about it. But, so long as the person you treated badly is alive, there’s still time to do the right thing. You can make an overdue apology. And if anyone wants to apologize to you, for some injury or slight buried in the past—well, here you are.

Recently a man came up to my wife at a party and, out of the blue, said, “I’m sorry.” It had to do with an ancient work-related incident. She hadn’t seen this person for 40 years and barely remembered what had happened. She brushed the apology aside. “Never mind, it was a long time ago.” He insisted: “No, no. It matters. I really am sorry. I really am.”

Some years ago, when I was out of town on a book tour, I had lunch with a woman I had dated almost a half-century before. In the middle of lunch, she suddenly said, “I must apologize for the way I treated you.” I had no idea what she was talking about. Best I could remember, each of us had sometimes treated the other not so well. We were young and confused. What do you expect?

What’s happening here? An obvious interpretation is that the person apologizing is trying to salve conscience and assuage guilt. The apology is for his or her sake, not yours. For you, the apology may open up old wounds, stir up bad memories.  Or induce bafflement. It doesn’t matter to the person apologizing. He gets to go home and have a good night’s sleep. He’s being selfish. You’re just a bit-player in somebody else’s psychodrama.

Is that too harsh? Perhaps. In some circumstances, making an overdue apology may be very painful. It may require courage and a big effort. It may be a genuine effort to balance the ethical books, driven by the best of motives. It may be an act of generosity. And it may not lead to the personal peace that the apologizer seeks.

What if the person apologizing doesn’t mean it? A famous form of non-apology apology uses the passive tense, e.g. “mistakes were made.” Another employs the “if” word: “I’m sorry if I offended you.” Non-apologies just make everything worse. Insincerity rekindles anger and resentment. How do you know if an apology is insincere? You’ll know. It’s pretty easy to spot.

Which brings me to contemporary big-time political/historical apologies. There are many examples. We live in an age of apology. In 1995 President Jacques Chirac of France apologized for France’s wartime treatment of French Jews. In 2009 the United States Congress apologized to African-Americans for slavery. Justin Trudeau frequently apologizes for Canadian government policies, e.g., in 2021 for the internment of Canadians of Italian descent during World War Two. Also in 2021, former president of South Africa F.W. de Klerk issued a posthumous apology for apartheid (on a video released after he died). Pope Francis apologized in 2022 for the role of the Catholic church in Canadian Indigeneous residential schools. Sometimes apologies like these are heartfelt and sincere (those of Chirac and de Klerk). Sometimes they are strategic and political.

I talked to my wife about this and, as usual, she made a good point. “It’s not just apologies we should be worried about,” she said. “It’s thank yous as well. Sometimes, back in the past, you didn’t thank someone for something they did. It’s never too late to fix that.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Thank you.”

Note: I’m travelling this week and there won’t be an Endgame next Sunday.