In Jay Rayner’s novel Eating Crow (2004), a food critic named Marc Basset enjoys shredding the reputations of popular restaurants. A celebrated chef kills himself in response to one of Basset’s hatchet jobs. The guilt gets to the critic. He pleads for forgiveness from the widow and discovers that the act of apologising is a cathartic release. Basset soon finds himself apologising to everyone he’s ever harmed. He gets good at it. This catches the attention of an United Nation’s agency responsible for settling the grievances of victimised peoples. The UN make Basset their Chief Apologist. The job involves traveling around the world to make elaborate apologies to the aggrieved. Basset refines his technique by studying the advice of renowned apology expert Thomas Schenke. Eventually Basset’s success spawns a social movement. Masses of people join apology clubs and take part in apology ceremonies. Videos of outstanding apologies circulate on the Internet. Apology books become best sellers. Amid it all, Basset achieves rock-star status. He becomes the Mick Jagger of blubbering apologetes.

Rayner’s novel is clever as a commentary about our confessional age. We live in a time when a remorseful and empathetic apology on a chat show can get you a lot of sympathy from the blaming mob. Errant politicians and business leaders are now expected to apologise for mistakes as part of their responsibility to account. If you live in Japan, you’re probably use to the spectacle of fallen leaders crying, bowing, and pleading on camera. We’re seeing more of this in North America and the UK. The trend has been described as the “apology phenomenon” and the “forgiveness craze”.[1] It’s touted as a refreshing alternative to the stonewalling and excuse mongering of highly defensive leaders; the silence and evasiveness that’s assumed to signal guilt and cover-up. To illustrate the new high road, here’s a fresh apology from Jeff Bezos, the head of the largest on-line retailer, Amazon.com:

This is an apology for the way we previously handled illegally sold copies of 1984 and other novels on [the] Kindle [electronic-book reader]. Our “solution” to the problem was stupid, thoughtless, and painfully out of line with our principles. It is wholly self-inflicted, and we deserve the criticism we’ve received. We will use the scar tissue from this painful mistake to help make better decisions going forward, ones that match our mission. (Bezos, 2009)

That’s a pretty good apology, even if it didn’t involve a weeping executive prostrating before a customer on video. The way it was crafted is no accident.

There’s a method to saying sorry. A good performance is a critical part of the method. The method also stipulates what needs to be said in an apology for it to be effective. Just as Rayner’s fictional expert Schenke had his list of ingredients for a successful apology, several real-life pundits have been peddling their recipes and performance advice. Indeed, apology guidance has been part of the public relations repertoire for several decades. A good apology can dramatically shift the press coverage and public sentiment surrounding a disgraced celebrity. The apology can have tangible benefits for ordinary folk too, such as reductions in the punishment for run-of-the-mill wrong-doing and negligence. In highly litigious societies, notably the United States, a well crafted apology can save a lot of money (and avoid other sanctions) when settling a grievance. There is even a literature on how to make a “collective apology”, or an apology to a large group of people that has been wronged collectively. That’s why the premise of Rayner’s novel isn’t as far fetched as you might have thought at first blush.

Effective Apology: Mending Fences, Building Bridges, and Restoring Trust
by John Kador (Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2009), pp. 273.

John Kador’s book Effective Apology is the latest addition to the apology literature. The book is aimed at executives who have a habit of defensiveness and denial when they (or others in their organisations) have erred. Some executives worry that apologies are a sign of weakness. To the contrary, argues Kador, they signal confidence and power. An apology also shows strength of character and a strong sense of justice. Guardedness is an act of arrogance that prevents leaders from learning from their mistakes. In contrast, apologies are acts of humility and empathy that result in intellectual growth.

Although apologies are increasingly popular, most leaders remain reluctant to say sorry and admit mistakes. Leaders fear the uncertainty of how an apology will be received. Apology, as Kador describes it, is an exchange of power between the offender and offended. And that vulnerability requires courage. Apologies are certainly not cost-free. But, as Kador argues, an apology for harmful error is in the best interest of leaders most of the time. Indeed, apologies are said to have a transformational power: “Apologies have more power than most of us realize to restore strained relationships, free us from vengeful impulses, and create possibilities for growth.” (p. 6) Resentment can be defused, dignity restored, and bonds of trust saved by an effective apology. As mentioned above, apologies can also have material benefits, such as reduced demands for compensation, especially those of the legal variety. Leaders can also make a clean break after an offense and proceed quickly along a new path.

Kador underscores the importance of a good performance when apologising. That’s usually necessary but not sufficient. The apology needs to convey a compelling message too. Every apology guru has a recipe for communicating the right messages and Kador is no exception. An apology needs to have five main ingredients that Kador calls the “five Rs”. If performed in the most conscientious, humble, and careful manner, the five Rs will result in an effective and wholehearted apology.

• Recognition. Recognition involves specifying exactly what the offense is and acknowledging that it is an offense. The aggrieved person needs to know that the offender sees the situation in the same way. The apology should state clearly the offense and the impact. The social norm or value that has been violated should be specified to signal to the offended that the offender shares the same basic ideals. The person making the apology needs to make sure that they are saying sorry for the right things to the right people, and they are the appropriate person to make the apology (i.e., they have “standing”). There is some debate as to whether an apology should also include an explanation. Kador worries that explanations too often become self-serving. He reserves explanations for situations in which the offended ask repeatedly for them. I’m not so sure that there is such a clear-cut distinction between a description and an explanation in the case of a serious controversy.
• Responsibility. Taking responsibility involves acknowledging a precise role in the offense without attempting to diminish that role in any way.
• Remorse. The offender should signal remorse, both verbally and with body language. This act of contrition mustn’t be impersonal nor officious. The offended want to see the offender suffer in some way, starting with the emotional suffering that comes from a strong sense of guilt and sorrow.
• Restitution. Restitution involves compensating the offended in some way so as to restore the relationship to its prior state. Without restitution, argues Kador, the offender gets away with some benefit from the offense and that stands in the way of a full resolution. The offender wants to see a sacrifice. This may not necessarily involve money or other material asset. But the offender can’t expect to get away without making meaningful recompense.
• Repetition. This part of Kador’s model should probably be called “reassurance” because it involves making it clear that the offense will never happen again (some authors call this “forbearance”, an even better term). Without reassurance of proper behaviour in the future, it is unclear whether the offended and offender share the same understanding of the situation and the same values. The offended want a sense of psychological safety. It also brings into question whether the offender is capable of learning.

Kador also has a few tips about when, where, and how to apologise. Timing tends to depend on whether there is a need for a period of “cooling off” or reflection. Immediate and delayed apologies each come with potential benefits and risks. Kador advocates for face-to-face apologies and against token gift-giving.

Kador’s book includes a chapter about how to accept and reject apologies if you happen to be a victim. There’s a discussion of obstacles to wholehearted apologies that includes examples of half-hearted ones. Examples include attempts to explain away the offense or responsibility during the apology, apologies with an implicit attack on the victim, and apologies that are too sweeping in their scope (blanket apologies). Non-apologies are discussed (i.e., statements that contain some of the verbiage of apology but none of the intent). There is also a chapter devoted to grab-bag of “frequently asked questions”. The most interesting chapter that elaborates on Kador’s model is the one about forgiveness. Kador defines forgiveness as “a process whereby the victim relinquishes grudges, forgoes fantasies of revenge, and surrenders feelings of hatred and resentment directed at the offender.” (p. 171) Unlike an apology, forgiveness is a private action whereby the victim fully comes to terms with the offense.

So what’s my appraisal of Effective Apology? I can’t quarrel much with Kador’s basic model. It’s fine. If you’re looking for simple guidance about how to craft an apology, the “five Rs” is a decent template. The main weakness of Kador’s book is the shocking lack of originality.

Most of Kador’s analytical distinctions come from Lazare’s On Apology (2005), including almost all of the substance of Kador’s 5Rs model (the core of the book). Kador’s chapter on the difference between apology and forgiveness owes much to Lazare, with Lazare also including a useful discussion of repentance. (Repentance, or a committed turn to moral righteousness after a grievous sin, helps explain why George W. Bush has been forgiven by the pious for his past frat-boy antics; being “born again” grants you a clean slate in some religious circles.) Most of Kador’s rhetorical themes come from Engel’s The Power of Apology (2001), particularly the parts about the “healing power” and “transformative nature” of apologies, as well as the gimmick about labeling the main ingredients as the “Rs”. Describing the apology dynamic as an exchange of shame and power between the offender and offended likely comes from Engel too, although it is a very old idea. Kador’s notion of the “wholehearted apology” owes a great deal to the characterisation of “categorical apologies” in Smith’s I Was Wrong (2008), although the two authors’ opinions differ on a few points. Smith’s notion is much clearer than Kador’s. Kador’s discussion of a person’s “standing” in the apology process also comes from Smith, who writes from the perspective of legal and moral philosophy.

After all of that is considered, what counts as a major original contribution by Kador? Different examples: sure. The talk about leadership courage and confidence: okay. Kador’s book is arguably a tidier read than most, although Lazare’s book is organised and engaging. There are a few minor quarrels with other authors. I struggle to find many substantive points that are unique. Perhaps that’s Kador’s niche: summarizing a few books on the topic for the biz-book-buying crowd while adding a bit of leadership chit-chat. It wouldn’t be the first time a professional consultant and ghost-writer has done that.

I would also take issue with a number of arguments that Kador makes.

Among apology commentators, Kador is among the most absolute in his advocacy for open, unguarded apologies. Kador is one of those consultants that Dezenhall & Weber lambaste in their book Damage Control (2007) as naïve and reckless, both politically and legally (see my review of their book). I tend to side with the likes of Dezenhall & Weber when it comes to high-stakes controversies … or even minor skirmishes given the office politics of a place. Calculation is advisable except for those “bare your soul” moments. Even Kador’s marquee example of an apologyby Marion Jones, an Olympic athlete who admitted to steroid usearguably shows that the fallout of too much candour can be crushing. There is often a need to mitigate risks instead of leaving yourself exposed to the uncertainty that results from an apology. Kador argues that this uncertainty and vulnerability is precisely the thing that makes an apology so compelling in the eyes of the offended. I agree. I agree very much. But when the stakes are high and you’re not entirely to blame, a more sophisticated strategy is required for such “gray areas”; a strategy that includes various mitigation tactics that may include a less-than-candid apology. One thing is for sure: the big fat blubbering apology is not a strategy. It’s not even a palliative if it results in a giant unjust spanking.

Smith’s book I Was Wrong is interesting because it talks about legal disputes and, in so doing, describes a broader range of apology types (pp. 140-152). That includes: an apology that disputes the circumstances of the matter but makes a gesture of goodwill (conciliatory apology); an apology that accepts limited or no responsibility, yet offers compensation (compensatory apology); an apology that is designed as a means to an end (instrumental apology); and a situation in which someone apologises for an offense committed by another (proxy apology). Kador’s model dismisses all these apologies as non-apologies or ineffective. Yet, some of these qualified apologies can be very effective and appropriate given the circumstances. To be clear, I’m not defending the shallow placation of legitimate grievances. There is an ethical requirement to accept responsibility for serious wrong-doing. But in the political arena, everyone with a chip on their shoulder wants a wholehearted apology from someone or another. Too bad. Sorry, I sometimes have a hard time taking off my political science hard-hat.

I am particularly interested in how apologies play out in the workplace. Kador (or should I say Engel?) correctly points out that an apology is a shift in power and shame from the offender to the offended. Throughout his book, Kandor tends to assume that the person making the apology is a senior leader of some sort. So a confident executive can apologise in a way that reinforces the impression of power and authority if delivered deftly. Sure. But what about apologies by underlings? What if you don’t have much organisational power in the first place? Here, the further relinquishment of power that comes with the apology can make a worker especially vulnerable to arbitrary punishment. Scapegoats tend to be made of the weakest and most expendable. I’m not sure that Kador offers much advice to those with little power except for those with little choice but to bow at the feet of a boss and offer a supplicating apology … or those with a particularly trustworthy boss or colleague.

Kador’s gung-ho attitude about apologising also leads him to overstate the benefits of an apology in restoring trust. First, in the workplace, a bond of trust develops after a track record of honesty, openness, mutual consideration, reciprocity, and consistency. A serious betrayal shows, almost by definition, a lack of consistency. It is rare for an apology to fully restore the lost trust. A forthright return to a consistent track-record of respectability is certainly required. Second, we may consider a person to be trustworthy by virtue of their role or status. For example, a traditional authority such as a judge or priest may be considered particularly trustworthy by default. Yet the public is less deferential to such authorities as every day passes. When a traditional authority betrays our trust, the process of rebuilding doesn’t come from a simple apology except from the most forgiving. That authority’s integrity has to be rebuilt as part of the rebuilding of trust. Kador overstates the extent to which an apology is viewed as a sign of integrity, especially if the apology is about a violated ethic or is seen as not entirely voluntary. My point is that an apology may be part of the process of rebuilding trust. However, for serious offenses, it is always just a part.

Jay Rayner’s novel Eating Crow does a good job of capturing the cottage industry of apology advice-givers. Most public relations practitioners who are versed in the apology literature apply it in a far more calculating way than Kador advises. Rayner’s UN cronies do. The need for calculation in our political workplaces is one reason why I’d rather recommend Lazare’s On Apology or Smith’s I Was Wrong, sources that provide more nuanced guidance. Both authors also provide advice about collective apologies, which is the job of Rayner’s protagonist, Marc Basset. Many of Basset’s successful apologies have all the ingredients advocated by the likes of Kador. Indeed, one of the reasons why Basset was selected for the job of Chief Apologist is because he has special “standing”: his unique mix of ancestors happen to be implicated in half of the colonial atrocities of history. Even the fictional expert Schenke has a messaging formula that is strikingly similar to those offered by the books I’ve cited. Rayner seems to have done his homework.

At one point in the novel, Basset feels obliged to visit the master of apology, Dr. Schenke. You’d expect Schenke to be an especially polite, patient, and level-headed font of knowledge. You’d expect a saintly demeanor and lack of emotional disquiet. You’d expect Schenke to have an acute understanding of human fallibility and the evils of arrogance and pettiness. You’d be wrong. Instead, you get this guy:

He stood up, leaned across the desk at me, and shouted, “She made me throw the bottles at her!” He sat down and started reading the paper again, laid flat across the desk. “It was provocation,” he muttered to himself. “That’s what it was. Undue provocation. That’s what I’ll tell ‘em. Call me a slob, will she?”

“Maybe I chose a bad day [to visit]. perhaps I’ll go now and we can sort out another time when”

“Hah! What’s a good day? Define a good day for me, O Mighty Chief Apologist. The man who knows everything. Where did they find you anyway?”

“Well, I ”

“Some snotty jerk profiting off my hard work.”

“I don’t think that’s fair. I’m only trying to do a job that”

“Another lazy little shit like all the rest of them, leeching off me. Sucking me dry.”

“Professor Schenke, I don’t see how I can be accused of doing anything to you.”

“You’re like the rest of them.” …

“You know, Professor, you’re not at all what I was expecting.”

He snapped the paper down. “What were you hoping for? Snow-fucking-White?” (Rayner, 2004, p. 145)

I’ll just let that exchange hang there. I love British satire.

Review by Peter Stoyko

Update (28.08.09)

John Kador has responded to my review on the site devoted to his book. His comments aren’t directly linkable, but they’re located in the news scroll found here. He seems to take my appraisal in stride. We agree to disagree about my argument for calculation in certain situations. But we agree to agree that my narrative foil, Rayner’s Eating Crow, is a very good book. I’m glad Kador is a good sport, although I suppose it would’ve been awkward to write a fist-shaking rebuttal given the way I ended the review … and given his advice about guardedness.

NOTES

[1] The first term is attributable to Lazare (2005, p. 17) and the second to Engel (2001, p. 17).

REFERENCE