The Art of Saying Sorry
An apology costs nothing, yet the reluctance to offer one can sometimes cost us far more.
When did someone last make you feel belittled, dismissed or deeply offended? Perhaps it was a sharp remark, an insensitive response or an occasion when someone treated you with little consideration. Did it stay with you? And if that person had sincerely apologised, would it have made a difference?
Now turn the question around. When did you last make someone feel belittled, dismissed or upset? Did you recognise the impact of your words or behaviour? And did you apologise?
We are quick to remember when others have wronged us, but less ready to recognise our own part. Most of us have a fairly healthy opinion of ourselves. We consider ourselves intelligent, capable and good judges of people. Some of us even behave as though the world would struggle without our contribution. Admitting that we are wrong does not always come easily.
We can cause distress in the most ordinary situations: at home, at work, in a shop or on the road. It could be a sharp remark, an impatient gesture, a glare or simply turning away. We may regard it as a passing irritation. The person on the receiving end may remember it for much longer.
We can be particularly inconsiderate towards those who are less powerful and unlikely to answer back: a junior colleague, a driver or a service employee. Then there are those closest to us. Spouses, children, parents and siblings often receive our sharpest words. We assume they know we love them and will understand. But familiarity is no excuse for taking their feelings for granted.
Technology has made it easier to distance ourselves from the impact of our words. We send a curt WhatsApp message or email, feel we have made our point and move on. A message takes seconds to send; the emotional impact can last much longer.
I feel strongly about this because I remember, from a few decades ago, people being rude or abrupt with me, pushing me aside or making me feel small. What stayed with me was not just what happened, but the absence of an apology. Some incidents weighed on me for months, affected my peace of mind and, at times, my health. I still wonder why they behaved that way. Was it indifference, a sense of superiority or simply an inability to recognise the distress they had caused? Even today, remembering some of those incidents can make me angry.
Some of those people are no longer with us. I do not say this to reopen old wounds, but sometimes I find myself thinking how much a simple apology would have meant.
Those memories have made me more conscious of my own behaviour. I have not always got it right. There have been occasions when I have been abrupt and later realised that I should have handled things differently. I have gone back and said, "Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was under pressure, but that is no excuse."
I have seen the relief on the other person's face, particularly when that person reports to me. A sharp remark from a senior colleague can leave someone anxious or unsure of where they stand. A sincere apology can lift a weight we may not even realise we have placed on someone. Seeing that person relax is reward enough.
This is why I believe we must teach children to apologise from an early age. I remember my mother telling me, when I was a tiny tot, "Say sorry." She would say it with the authority that parents perhaps exercised more freely in those days. Those two words have stayed with me all my life. As I think of her, particularly around her birthday, I am reminded of how some of the simplest lessons taught by our parents leave the deepest impressions.
The lesson begins at home, with mothers, fathers and grandparents. We have all seen little children snatching toys, throwing things at someone, hitting their parents, pulling someone's dress or tugging at another child's hair. Most of us probably did similar things when we were young. There is often something amusing about a toddler's mischief, and adults sometimes smile, laugh and let it pass. After all, they are only children.
But these are precisely the moments when children begin learning what is acceptable and what is not. We should not expect them to understand everything immediately, but we should gently explain when their behaviour has caused distress or embarrassment to someone else. They need to learn that other people have feelings, that actions have consequences and that an apology is sometimes necessary.
Saying sorry should not simply be a word repeated because an adult demands it. Children need to understand why their behaviour was inappropriate and learn to take responsibility. The intention is not to make them afraid of making mistakes, but to help them recognise when they are wrong and put things right.
Schools, too, can reinforce what is taught at home. I would like every school to set aside an hour, perhaps once a term, for an open discussion about apologising. In a class of 30, children could talk about occasions when they have been belittled, received an apology or found it difficult to say sorry. If even five leave that session thinking differently about how they treat others, the hour will have been well spent. They may carry that lesson into their adult lives.
Of course, an apology must be genuine. It cannot be a convenient way of escaping responsibility, particularly if the same behaviour continues. Nor does saying sorry guarantee forgiveness. That is for the other person to decide. But acknowledging that we have caused distress or offended someone is an important first step.
Is there someone you owe an apology to? It may be worth putting aside your pride and making that call. Anyone can insist on having the last word. It takes rather more character to go back and say, "I'm sorry."
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