June 2009 Archives

In 1957, a government worker named Frank Kameny was fired from his government job solely because of his sexual orientation.  His appeal to the U.S. Civil Service Commission was futile.  Reasoning that homosexuals were security risks, the commission upheld his termination.

Fifty years later, the United States finally apologized to Kameny.

In a White House ceremony, John Berry, the most senior gay official in the Obama administration, serving as director of the Office of Personnel Management, presented Kameny with an official letter of apology along with the department's most prestigious award, the Theodore Roosevelt Award.  Turning to Kameny, the representative of the U.S. government said: 

In what we know today was a shameful action, the United States Civil Service Commission in 1957 upheld your dismissal from your job solely on the basis of your sexual orientation.  And by virtue of the authority vested in me as Director of the Office Of Personnel Management, it is my duty and great pleasure to inform you that I am adding my support ... for the repudiation of the reasoning of the 1957 finding by the United States Civil Service Commission to dismiss you from your job solely on the basis of your sexual orientation. Please accept our apology for the consequences of the previous policy of the United States government.

The full text of the apology statement is here. 

"Apology accepted," Kameny replied.

I'm thrilled with both the apology and the acceptance of the apology.

Ideally, apologies should immediately follow the offense.  But in some cases, the apologies have to catch up with human progress.  

Offense like what Kameny had to endure don't have a statute of limitations. 

I believe it is never too late for an institution to acknowledge error and to apologize to the victims of misguided apology.  A public apology in this context serves an important public policy.  It repudiates noxious policies once and for all.  It re-establishes new policy on the bedrock of contemporary morality. 

An apology also corroborates the historical record where there is dispute.  And an apology reminds the public that government policies are not infallible rules to be mindlessly observed but human constructs that benefit from thoughtful challenge. 

As for Kameny's response to the apology, I'd like to believe he read my book.  My advice for anyone considering a reasonably complete apology, big or small, is the same:  apology accepted.  It's the perfect way to honor an apology. 

Before Bernard Madoff was sentenced to 150 years in prison Monday, the maximum possible sentence, for perpetrating Wall Street's most brazen investment fraud, the disgraced financier turned to face the victims who had just excoriated him to apologize.  He had heard himself described as a "beast," an "animal" and a "lowlife."

What he also faced was the limit of apology.

Was there anything he could have said that would have begun the process of redemption and the possibility of reconciliation? 

Maybe. 

After the victims had their say, the 71-year old Madoff stood up from the defense table to acknowledge the damage he had inflicted and apologize.  He said that he committed the fraud on his own.  He did not name any accomplices.  He did not promise to help victims regain the investments entrusted to him.  What he said was this: 

I'm responsible for a great deal of suffering and pain, I understand that.  I live in a tormented state now, knowing all of the pain and suffering that I've created. I've left a legacy of shame, as some of my victims have pointed out, to my family and my grandchildren.  I'm sorry.  I know that doesn't help you.

The judge was not impressed.  Nor should he have been.  The apology was desperately insipid given the weight of the offense. 

U.S. District Court Judge Denny Chin agreed.  "I simply do not get the sense that Mr. Madoff has done all that he could or told all that he knows," the judge said.

Madoff stood alone.  This was a man abandoned.  None of the convicted swindler's family was in court to bear witness.  None had ever showed up at any of his court appearances.  The judge said he had not received a single letter on Madoff's behalf, testifying to any good deeds or charitable works. "The absence of such support is telling," Chin said.

Investors said that his apologies left them cold.  They seemed content with the fact that Madoff will die in prison. 

So, back to the question.  Is there any apology that would have made a difference?  Or is the weight of Madoff's crime so heavy that it is beyond the power of apology?

I think Madoff had a shot, just a shot at redemption. 

No Guarantees

His apology would have had to call on a pattern of helping authorities find the money that he swindled.  Madoff could have demonstrated repentance by dedicating himself to recovering as much wealth as possible without regard to protecting his friends and family, naming names, divulging records, disgorging funds from secret bank accounts, identifying property that authorities didn't know about, and otherwise focusing on compassion for his victims. 

He had taken the first step by turning himself in to police and not infuriating people by denying the scandal.   

Where he fell short was refusing to fight for as much restitution as possible.  For that deficit, Bernard Madoff, disgraced and abandoned, will die in prison.  WHat a shame. 

In my last blog, I gave pretty good marks to the apology that S.C. Governor Mark Sanford issued for his infidelity.  I thought he spoke directly, took responsibility, and didn't try to blame anyone but himself. 

It's not enough.  His resignation as head of the Republican Governor's Association is on the right track but is insufficient.  

Mark Sanford will find that to make his apology complete, he must resign as governor of South Carolina.

I predict he will resign in the days surrounding the July Fourth holiday. 

I believe such a resignation is appropriate.  Not because of his marital infidelity.  That represents a betrayal of his wife and remains a private matter best resolved in the privacy of the relationship.  

Resignation is appropriate because he betrayed the citizens of South Carolina.  His deception about his whereabouts turned his staff into unsuspecting accomplices. Sanford's secret trip to Argentina can be considered a dereliction of duty.  He has, to date, failed to apologize for these offenses to the citizens. 

Sanford seems to be a thoughful man.  I would have preferred he think out his apology before he gave his rambling statement, but that's another matter.  I believe he will conclude that his behavior now makes his position as governor untenable.  He will resign because as a thoughtful governor he will realize the truth of what I say in my book: you can't talk your way out of situation you acted your way into. 

Governor Sanford's final act will be to resign his office.   

Evidence shows that, in general, women have an easier time apologizing than men.  But power and politics skews the balance.  Sexism is also implicated.  It's hard to unpack the influences, but I'll try. 

Some background.  Last January, Lisa Raitt, Canada's Minister of Natural Resources, was under fire for a medical isotopes crisis that delayed thousands of cancer patients from getting treatment.  So people were rightfully upset. 

Raitt then made a classic political blunder.  She said something stupid and political.  She described the shortage of isotopes used in cancer tests as a "sexy" issue from which she could benefit politically. 

She made her controversial comments in a private conversation with her aide.  It could have ended there, but the remarks were accidentally caught on tape. The tape was misplaced by the aide, Jasmine MacDonnell, and fell into the hands of a reporter for the Halifax Chronicle-Herald.  When the story broke, Raitt could have apologized for a poor word choice and the matter would have been forgotten.  Instead, she chose to minimize, deny, and stonewall.  That strategy never works because the media loves to cover defensive politicians.   It makes such good video.  Outraged cancer survivors called for her resignation. 

This week, finally, Lisa Raitt apologized at a hastily called news conference. 

After thinking about it for six months, one would hope that her apology would be world-class.  You decide.

Today, I want to personally convey my deep regret for wording I used in a private discussion earlier this year which was inadvertently recorded.  As somebody who has been, in their personal life, deeply affected by cancer, my intent was certainly not to show any disrespect for cancer victims, survivors or their families.  However it is clear that these remarks have been interpreted in that way. So I want to offer a clear apology to anyone who has been offended by what I said.  I want people to know that when I was 11 years old I watched my father pass away from colon cancer over a period of 18 months. My mother and I and my brother took care of him until his final days. Twenty years later I was in the room with my brother as he died from lung cancer.

How's her Apology?

This is such a poor apology, it's hard to know where to start.

The phrase "I want to apologize" is a trap.  It signals an intention to apologize, but unless you follow up with something like "So, I'm very sorry" the phrase remains an intention.  "I want to apologize" is no more about apology than "I want to lose weight" is about shedding pounds.  In each case, you have to do the hard work. 

Raitt also makes the classic mistake of thinking her intent is of any interest.  As David Letterman learned, victims care about consequences, not intentions.  It wasn't the fault of the victims that she was misunderstood.  It was Raitt's fault she was misunderstood. 

Bringing in her personal experience with cancer the way she does is troublesome.  This is not about her experience.  The apology is about the experience of her constituents with cancer.  Telling her story like she did is an attempt to claim redemption for herself instead of compassion for the victim.  It strikes entirely the wrong note.  There's a time for her to share her story, but it's not when she's apologizing.  It should be about the victims. 

She also misses an opportunity to show her sincerity by offering restitution.  In this case, appropriate restitution might be to make a donation to a cancer organization or, better yet, to volunteer at a cancer ward. 

An ideal apology would also have included a promise to learn from the incident and not to repeat it. 

Evaluation

Recognition: B

Responsibility:  B

Remorse: C

Restitution:  F

Repetition:  F

Overall grade: D

Most people, including David Letterman himself, conceded that the late night comic went over the line in a recent joke pegged to Sarah Palin and one of her daughters attending a New York Yankees game.  The joke flowed out of a regular Letterman shtick, this one called Top 10 Highlights of Sarah Palin's Trip to New York.  This was one of the items:

"There was one awkward moment during the seventh inning stretch. Her daughter was knocked up by Alex Rodriguez."

The joke went over the line.  It's an elementary rule of comedy that jokes at the expense of minor children of politicians are off-limits, even when a daughter, such as Bristol Palin, is in the news.  But Bristol wasn't the daughter at the Yankee game.  It was 14 year-old Willow Palin.  Letterman ended up looking like a creep and a bully.

The reaction was swift and furious.  Politicians and bloggers called for Letterman's firing.  Others called for an apology, not just to Sarah Palin but to all women.

This is a classic situation for an effective apology.  A quick apology and the matter would have blown over.  Instead, Letterman came out with a ham-fisted statement of regret.  He admitted the joke was in bad taste and that he "probably" regretted it, but then said it was probably no different from the other thousands of jokes he regretted.  It was lame.

A week passed until Letterman got it right.  And I have to hand it to him.  His apology is damn good.   A full-throated mea culpa that acknowledges that his intentions don't count against the consequences.  His apology was delivered on his show on June 15, 2009.  This is part of the apology.  Cick for the full video and text.  

I told a bad joke. I told a joke that was beyond flawed, and my intent is completely meaningless compared to the perception.  And since it was a joke I told, I feel that I need to do the right thing here and apologize for having told that joke.

It's not your fault that it was misunderstood, it's my fault that it was misunderstood.  So I would like to apologize, especially to the two daughters involved, Bristol and Willow, and also to the governor and her family and everybody else who was outraged by the joke. I'm sorry about it and I'll try to do better in the future.

Nice work, Dave.  I especially like the statement, "It's not your fault that it was misunderstood, it's my fault that it was misunderstood."  I could have used that in my book.  I also appreciate the promise to do better next time.  I believe him.  The only thing the apology missed is a gesture of restitution beyond the public shame that Letterman accepted.  Perhaps in this case, it's enough.   

Evaluation:

Recognition:  A

Responsibility:  A

Remorse:  A

Restitution:  B

Repetition:  A

Overall score: A-

Susan is an employee of a company and her manager has called her into his office.  A copy of Susan's recent expense report is on his desk.  He asks Susan to sit.  He asks about an item she charged as a "business dinner."  In fact, the charge was for a personal dinner entirely social in nature which had nothing to do with business.  

How should Susan respond?  

This was one of five scenarios posed to me by Colleen Rush, who was on assignment for Cosmopolitan Magazine.  What is the appropriate response, she asked, for someone in this situation?

We agreed that the worst thing Susan could do was lie, deny, or stonewall.  The coverup is always worse than the underlying crime. I suggested that since Susan did, in fact, abuse the trust that was placed in her, she needed to accept responsibility and apologize.  I spent a chunk of the interview explaining what kind of apology this kind of situation requires.

It's not only what we do that counts.  It's what we do about what we do that defines our charaacter.  

Susan has a chance to be true to her values she violated.  She may not be able to reclaim her job, but she can begin the work of reclaiming her integrity. 

Here's the apology I crafted for Susan.

Susan's Apology

I'm here to apologize.  I did charge a personal expense to the company as a business expense.    I knew doing so was against company policy.  Moreover, it violated my own sense of integrity.  I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway.  I have no excuse.  I don't expect you to believe me, but this was the first and only time I did something like this.  I'm so sorry that I violated your trust.  I will reimburse the company for the personal dinner I dishonestly expensed.  I promise to never again abuse the company's trust.  

I value my association with the company and I want to keep the job I have put at risk.  In this envelope is a letter of resignation.  I will understand if you choose to accept it.  But I hope you will allow me to demonstrate going forward that your trust in me is not misplaced and that I can be a valuable contributor.  In either case, I hope you can accept my apology. 

Are You Nuts?

I heard from a number of people who said it was foolish of Susan to offer to resign.  "Don't put any ideas in the manager's head!" was the common theme.

But it's a certainty that the manager has already considered firing Susan.  Indeed, the decision may already have been made.  But if there's a chance she can keep her job, it seems to me that by handing her manager a letter of resignation, Susan demonstrates how seriously she considers her infraction.   The letter, along with reimbursing the company, becomes part of Susan's restitution, making her apology more powerful. 

You can't talk your way out of a situation you acted your way into.  Susan needs to do something besides say the right words to keep her job.   

Susan may well end up unemployed.  She made a serious error in judgment and consequences apply.  Apologizing is not cost-free. Apologizing is just less costly than the alternatives. 

What do you think?

Is there another apology you would craft for Susan?

If you were Susan's manager, would you cut her some slack (maybe with probation) or terminate her? 

Extra Credit

This scenario assumes that this violation was the first and only time Susan abused the expense account system.  But what if Susan's expense reports include a number of similar violations?  How would you adjust the apology?   

The State of Connecticut has joined seven other states in formally apologizing for slavery.  By a 36-to-0 roll call vote, the state Senate unambiguously gave final approval on June 3rd to a similar House resolution.

I congratulate the general assembly of Connecticut for finally recognizing its obligations to history. 

While the general assembly managed to pass this apology resolution, it failed to pass a budget before it recessed.  Maybe in another century or so a future legislature will apologize for having its priorities so out of whack. 

Profound Contrition

The resolution expresses "profound contrition" for the racist policies of the state.  The text of resolution is here. 

In its deliberations, state legislators learned that Connmecticut had the largest number of slaves in New England at the time of the American Revolution.  It's legislature rejected emancipation bills in 1777, 1778, and 1780.

The state's constitution, drafted in 1818, specifically denied the right of blacks to vote. 

Like other apologies for slavery, the Connecticut resolution has language disallowing any reparations or payments to anyone who might have been harmed by events during the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries.

Most recently New Jersey and Virginia have passed similar apology resolutions.

Many citizens of Connecticut applauded the resolution. 

Why Should We Apologize?

Others felt that the current generation has no business apologizing for something that ended long before they were born.  

To that all I can offer are some statistics. 

Of Connecticut's population of 3.5 million people, about 10 percent are black, according to U.S. Census estimates for 2007.

Among full-time workers in the state, black men earn 70 percent of what white men earn.   

Stated another way, white men earn 30% more than black men.  This difference in earnings represents the benefits of slavery that white men continue to benefit from.   

Though we may not have asked for the benefit, nor even are aware of it, those of us who are white men must acknowledge that the legacy of slavery continues.  As long as white people benefit from the unearned privilege of the legacy of slavery, it is disingenuous for white people to claim that they have no standing to express profound contrition.  When we give up that privilege, then we will truly apologize. 

The simple fact is that in every state, the legacy of slavery has left a cultural burden on both the exploited and the exploiters that still permeates society.

"But how do I know if the apology is really sincere?"

Someone asks this question everytime I give a talk about my book. 

One of the biggest fears that people seem to have is that they will accept the apology of someone only to be victimized again.  The risk of this humiliation is unbearable for some.  The phrase that seems to apply is "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me."  

I understand the fear.  No one wants to take the risk of being shamed, of being revictimized.

So people ask me how can they be sure that an apology--meaning the apologizer--is sincere?

What I say is they can't.  Besides, the apologizer's sincerity is really beside the point. 

Blank Stares 

Isn't the entire point the quality of sincerity? If the apologizer is merely pretending to apologize, doesn't that make the apology worthless? 

Here's what I say.

Let's say you go to a restaurant.  Someone stops by and announces that he's your waiter. 

Do you take his word for it?  

The best way to resolve the question is to consider whether the meal gets effectively served.  If it is and he serves it and you get to eat, it's a pretty good bet that what you have there is a waiter.  Does it really matter if the waiter in his heart of hearts isn't really sincere about the work?

As for the server, can he pretend to be a waiter?  If he serves the meal effectively, he's a waiter.  His sincerity is quite irrelevant. 

So it is with apology.

If the apologizer serves up an effective apology, that's good enough.  His or her sincerity is quite besides the point.   

The Heart of the Matter

Look, we can't know what's in another's heart.  So why obsess about something we can't really measure?  Instead, let's look at the meal that's served up at our table.  Let's look at what we can observe. 

We can observe the apologizer's tone of voice, posture, and choice of words that express remorse and shame.  We can observe his or her understanding of just what it is they are apologizing for.  We can observe them accepting responsibility.  We can observe the quality of the restitution they offer.  We can observe the promise they make not to repeat the offending behavior. 

Most of all--and this is the last course of a five-course meal--we can observe if the offender has changed.  Does the apologizer keep his or her promise?  In the same situation, does he or she act with integrity? 

Every apology contains within it the answer to the question, How is the apologizer to be held accountable?  

Apology is a Verb

An effective apology requires action.  It demands change. 

The willingness of an offender to take these steps is the truest test of sincerity. An apology informed is good; an apology performed is better.

I'm not naive.  I know that many people posture apologies they don't mean for all kinds of reasons. Shouldn't we be wary of these postured apologies, lest we reward opportunistic apologizers? No. I believe that accepting such apologies may be the optimum course we can take. When we respond to a postured apology with acceptance, a curious thing sometimes occurs.

Offenders frequently dive into apology thinking they can control the process, but the apology process often takes over and controls them. The insincere apologizer is overtaken by the process itself and converted on the way there. The very act of apologizing, sincerely or not, is transformational.

In any case, if someone wrongs me and then, sincerely or opportunistically, expresses remorse, specifies the offending conduct, accepts responsibility, offers appropriate restitution, commits to not doing it again, and over the course of time demonstrates that commitment, then that apology is good enough for me.   You can't pretend to effectively apologize.