Apologies are a pretty important and complex communicative tool. We teach children the importance of apologising young. They aren’t neurologically capable of empathy in the form adults recognise it until the age of about seven.
In the interim, we essentially force apologies from children all the time: “Apologise to your brother for breaking his toy.” We know that the apology is insincere and based primarily on selfish motives or fear of reprimand, but it’s a way of teaching children the importance of recognising the rights and feelings of others. We hope that if we make them apologise when they should enough times, contrition will come when they are capable of understanding it. It is essentially a case of mimicking empathetic social behaviour until it comes naturally – hopefully.
Of course, little children are not responsible for their actions in the way that adults are, and cannot be expected to understand the context of those actions in the way that we should, but the fact that we place such primacy on learning to be sorry when appropriate shows how essential it is to social cohesion. If you admit to a mistake, express regret and try to make amends, then you can hope for acceptance again.
By taking the social step of making oneself vulnerable and open to rejection, we prove that we really are sorry and deserving of, if not forgiveness, then acceptance.
Terms and conditions
There are some necessary and sufficient conditions that make an apology genuine. We generally accept that the person apologising needs to take full responsibility for an action and its consequences, and to accept that they have done something wrong. The apology needs to acknowledge that people have been harmed, and to express regret about it as well as a sincere intention not to repeat the behaviour.
The word comes from the Greek term apologia, which is a speech in one's own defence. Most apologies we encounter in everyday life take this form. They aren't an apology as we recognise the term – an act of contrition – rather a qualified apology that avoids responsibility in some way and represents a buckling under some sort of pressure. People have demanded an apology, or it is expedient to give one. For political apologies, this is often the scenario.
When silence is better
In his book, I Was Wrong: The Meanings of Apologies, Nick Smith examines apologies in a way that hasn't often been done in philosophy, and looks at their various forms, as well as the misleading and deceptive ones we encounter all the time.
I happened upon the book after witnessing a very qualified apology from an acquaintance to a friend, the sort that is so hollow and diluted that silence is preferable. This person had said something deeply inappropriate at a gathering of friends, the sort of comment that silences a room and results in people shifting uncomfortably in their seats. A couple of weeks later, she emailed him to say, “I’m sorry if you felt uncomfortable”.
We have all had a cop-out apology. It is offered when someone has engineered themselves into the awkward position of being judged by others if they don’t apologise but they don’t actually believe they have done anything wrong. This sort of apology acknowledges harm, but suggests that this harm is the fault of the person being apologised to rather than the person issuing the apology. It is also important to note that, although an apology can be demanded or coerced through social pressure, a genuine apology cannot. The result will be the same kind of sullen “sorry” that is pouted out by a surly toddler who couldn’t handle the channel being changed when his 20 minutes of cartoons had ended and upended a giant Lego head full of blocks over the sleeping dog.
A sincere, unqualified apology is a sign of rare character. It is fully and freely given in a spirit of regret and responsibility. Qualified apologies are self-interested and insincere. Best not to make or receive them.