I had always thought that apologizing and saying “I’m sorry” was about, well, being sorry. And then I read the Albert Bandura’s research on self-punishment and was astounded at my own naiveté. The brilliant Stanford psychologist pointed out that there are multiple underlying motivations for showing one’s remorse besides the desire to take responsibility and indicate that we are truly contrite.
For example, apologizing and showing one is sorry often lessens the negative reactions of others to the offense. Even in a court of law, the contrite individual can get a lesser sentence. The offending person may also receive positive reactions from others for his/her show of remorse. The person may feel more positive about him or herself, seeing oneself as a “good person” once again, worthy of forgiveness.
The primary motive in an apology may be the desire to re-establish a positive relationship or return to the pre-offense relationship status. Finally, if the offense has not yet been discovered, the preemptive apology can relieve the anxiety over possible discovery and the consequences. All of the above focus more on the needs and desires of the offender than those of the offended party. It is likely that apologies have multiple motivations, but the damage to the offended individual is not always foremost.
To me the most important part of an apology is its sincerity. I do not judge its sincerity by how deeply felt the person is or appears at the time or even by their willingness to make some type of reparations. The only true measure of its sincerity is the resolve to never commit the offense or anything similar again. The most offensive apology is not the forced or feigned act of saying “I’m sorry,” but the “I’m sorry” (again) after each repeated offense.
Perhaps it harks back to my Catholic grammar school days. The confessional wasn’t an easy way out of offenses to God or anyone else. Yes, the priest said a few words in Latin that absolved us of our offense and the accompanying guilt, and we made reparations with the “penance” of a few Hail Mary’s or a rosary if the sin were big time. But it was made very clear that unless we resolved at that moment never to commit the offense again, we were not actually absolved, irrespective of the priest’s blessing and words to that effect. God knew if we had made this resolve, and we knew we couldn’t get around someone who we were told was all-seeing and all-knowing.
Unintentionally, I think this was a crucial lesson that has nothing to do with religion, that taking responsibility for our offense requires more than words or even reparations, but a change in our way of thinking or acting that was the underlying cause. The recognition of the pain caused the offended party motivates the sincerely apologetic individual to change in some way so that he/she never causes the injury again. We see the opposite in the cycle of abusive relationships, in which “I’m sorry” is tied to the victim’s behavior (“If she just didn’t do or say…”) rather than the change needed in the offender. “I’m sorry” has no real meaning for the repeat offender. It is a meaningless mantra no matter how much emotion accompanies it.
Apologies, it appears, can be quite complex, and no one has the time or energy to scrutinize and analyze the apology for every offense. It is important to look for unhealthy patterns and motivations, but it is also important to know how to recognize and graciously accept a sincere apology that is demonstrated in the efforts for change.
—
This post is republished on Medium.
—
