There was some minor, but meaningful news from the presidential campaign recently. A congressman from Kentucky--Jeff Davis--delivered an apology to Barack Obama after referring to him in a speech as "that boy." The meaningful part of the story is that the apology was quickly offered, seemed totally sincere and humbly asked for forgiveness. Here is an excerpt:
“My poor choice of words is regrettable and was in no way meant to impugn you or your integrity. I offer my sincere apology to you and ask for your forgiveness.”
I'm thinking Rep. Davis should write a book, or at least post a video on YouTube, on the art of the apology. He knows how to do it, and so many people don't.
The other day I was sitting in a hotel lobby when a woman drinking a diet soda walked behind me to throw her empty soda can into a waste basket. As she reached for the basket, she poured soda down my back. I know she knows she did it because I heard her little gasp as the liquid hit my shirt. But she said nothing. She just walked away as if she had done nothing at all.
Later that same day at a wedding reception another woman dropped a glass in the middle of a crowded dance floor. The shards went everywhere. She just turned away and ignored it, leaving others to scramble for a broom.
I could cite more personal examples, but I don't want to come off as a whiner. So let's shift to the public arena, where a favorite tactic is the non-apology apology. The tell-tale line is, "If I did wrong, then I regret."
Obama himself used a version of this after his notorious comments about the bitterness small-town, small-minded America. He said, "If I worded things in a way that made people offended, I deeply regret that." Listen the next time a public figure screws up and you'll probably hear something similar.
In his letter to the Philipians, the Apostle Paul wrote, "Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves."
It seems to me that's what an apology is--an antidote to conceit that regards another person, at least for the moment, as more important. An earnest, thorough apology can restore broken relationships, rekindle love, promote healing and even make things better than they were before. We all need to be reminded of the power of apology.
Several years ago a client who I felt particularly close to did something that really made me angry. I intended to discuss it with him, but before doing so I made a few phone calls to some third parties, trying to shore up my facts and give me some more ammunition for my argument. The client got word of my inquiries and came directly to me with his anger over my actions. He was right. I was dead wrong. With my whole heart I apologized as fully as I could. I also followed up my verbal apology with a letter, apologizing again and resigning the account.
He accepted my resignation, but I am pleased to say that years later this man is still a client--and a friend. We could have become distant, unpleasant memories to each other, but the power of apology helped keep us connected.
Asking for and receiving forgiveness is a critical human skill that needs to be developed, or it will disappear. As we experience forgiveness, we learn of its value and are more likely to extend it to others. When we fail to ask for forgiveness, after a while we begin to think we really don't need it. Eventually we begin to live as if forgiveness does not exist at all. There will be only offense, which we will feel whenever anyone encroaches on our sense of selfish entitlement. In our resentment we will demand--not forgiveness--but justice, revenge, punishment. Thus we escalate the heat in all our relationships.
We hear alot about what a hard, self-absorbed culture we live in. Learning why and when and how to apologize could go a long way toward softening us up.
Oh, and to that woman who poured soda down my back--I forgive you. I really do.
“My poor choice of words is regrettable and was in no way meant to impugn you or your integrity. I offer my sincere apology to you and ask for your forgiveness.”
I'm thinking Rep. Davis should write a book, or at least post a video on YouTube, on the art of the apology. He knows how to do it, and so many people don't.
The other day I was sitting in a hotel lobby when a woman drinking a diet soda walked behind me to throw her empty soda can into a waste basket. As she reached for the basket, she poured soda down my back. I know she knows she did it because I heard her little gasp as the liquid hit my shirt. But she said nothing. She just walked away as if she had done nothing at all.
Later that same day at a wedding reception another woman dropped a glass in the middle of a crowded dance floor. The shards went everywhere. She just turned away and ignored it, leaving others to scramble for a broom.
I could cite more personal examples, but I don't want to come off as a whiner. So let's shift to the public arena, where a favorite tactic is the non-apology apology. The tell-tale line is, "If I did wrong, then I regret."
Obama himself used a version of this after his notorious comments about the bitterness small-town, small-minded America. He said, "If I worded things in a way that made people offended, I deeply regret that." Listen the next time a public figure screws up and you'll probably hear something similar.
In his letter to the Philipians, the Apostle Paul wrote, "Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves."
It seems to me that's what an apology is--an antidote to conceit that regards another person, at least for the moment, as more important. An earnest, thorough apology can restore broken relationships, rekindle love, promote healing and even make things better than they were before. We all need to be reminded of the power of apology.
Several years ago a client who I felt particularly close to did something that really made me angry. I intended to discuss it with him, but before doing so I made a few phone calls to some third parties, trying to shore up my facts and give me some more ammunition for my argument. The client got word of my inquiries and came directly to me with his anger over my actions. He was right. I was dead wrong. With my whole heart I apologized as fully as I could. I also followed up my verbal apology with a letter, apologizing again and resigning the account.
He accepted my resignation, but I am pleased to say that years later this man is still a client--and a friend. We could have become distant, unpleasant memories to each other, but the power of apology helped keep us connected.
Asking for and receiving forgiveness is a critical human skill that needs to be developed, or it will disappear. As we experience forgiveness, we learn of its value and are more likely to extend it to others. When we fail to ask for forgiveness, after a while we begin to think we really don't need it. Eventually we begin to live as if forgiveness does not exist at all. There will be only offense, which we will feel whenever anyone encroaches on our sense of selfish entitlement. In our resentment we will demand--not forgiveness--but justice, revenge, punishment. Thus we escalate the heat in all our relationships.
We hear alot about what a hard, self-absorbed culture we live in. Learning why and when and how to apologize could go a long way toward softening us up.
Oh, and to that woman who poured soda down my back--I forgive you. I really do.
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