February
23,
2010


My
(Thoughts
on)
Apologies
by
Clint
Greenleaf

It
seems
that
there
have
been
a
lot
of
public
apologies
lately.
Most
of
them
have
come
from

public
officials
or
famous
people
who
have
made
big
mistakes.
They
do
a
big
news

conference
to
supposedly
bare
their
souls
and
apologize
to
everyone.
All
too
often,
it's
a

scripted,
unemotional
speech
with
poorly
coached
theatrics,
and
it
rings
hollow
and

disingenuous.
Most
important,
it's
too
little,
too
late.



Two
recent
and
poorly
executed
apologies
were
those
offered
by
South
Carolina
Governor

Mark
Sanford
and
Tiger
Woods.
After
both
apologies,
which
were
leading
news
items
for

days,
people
talked
about
how
the
apologies
were
weak
and
the
public
was
still
not
ready

to
forgive
the
wrongdoers.
They
were
dishonest
early
in
the
game,
and
their
later,
weak

apologies
were
not
sufficient.


Lets
be
clear
about
something:
In
neither
case
was
the
negative
response
simply
to
the

news
conference
itself.
The
deception
or
secrecy
that
came
before
the
confession
caused
all

the
trouble.
This
was
also
what
happened
to
Bill
Clinton
when
he
was
impeached
over
the

Monica
Lewinsky
affair.
He
lied
openly
before
the
truth
came
out.
Had
he
been
honest,

admitted
his
mistake
and
worked
to
not
do
it
again,
there
would
have
been
no
"depends
on

what
the
meaning
of
the
word
'is'
is"
comment
and
I
think
the
uproar
would
have
died

more
quickly
in
the
public
arena.


A
big
apology,
executed
early
and
correctly,
leaves
people
knowing
so
much
that
they
feel
a

bit
like
a
voyeur—that
they
probably
know
too
much
about
someone's
personal
life.
If,

instead,
there
is
a
sense
of
dishonesty
or
"more
to
the
story,"
both
the
public
and
the
media

will
not
let
go.
If
all
questions
are
answered,
and
there
is
an
appearance
of
justice
(i.e.

punishment
that
fits
the
crime
or
is
greater
than
the
crime)
people
usually
stop
digging
and

start
forgiving.


A
big
apology
is
sometimes
considered
a
bad
idea
because
it
opens
the
person
up
for

trouble
at
home
or
future
legal
trouble.
Guess
what:
If
a
crime
has
been
committed,
the

legal
issue
is
there
either
way,
and
if
the
subject
of
a
lie
is
an
affair,
the
jilted
spouse
will
be

jilted
whether
an
admission
of
guilt
is
offered
or
not.


Probably
the
best
case
study
for
this
happened
just
over
two
years
ago.
Both
Andy
Pettitte

and
Roger
Clemens
were
listed
in
the
Mitchell
Report
as
Major
League
Baseball
players

who
had
used
performance‐enhancing
drugs.
The
two
players
approached
the
crisis
in
very

different
ways.
Roger
Clemens
made
a
farce
of
his
situation,
even
going
to
Congress
and

denying
any
involvement
with
drugs.
Even
the
knuckleheads
in
Congress
were
able
to
see

that
he
was
lying.
Andy
Pettitte,
on
the
other
hand,
took
full
ownership
of
the
claims,

answered
every
question
anyone
had,
and
was
willing
to
take
any
punishment
that
would

come.


Clemens
quickly
saw
the
media
swarm
over
him,
probing
for
more
lies.
Less
than
two
years

later,
Pettitte
pitched
and
won
game
six
of
the
World
Series,
and
was
once
again
a
hero.


The
lesson
is
simple.
When
you
screw
up,
admit
it
frankly,
early,
completely,
and
move
on.

The
theory
that
you
can
lie
your
way
out
of
a
crisis
is
almost
always
untrue.
Instead,
it
feeds

the
inquisitive
minds
of
others
and
encourages
them
to
dig
deeper.
If
you've
done
wrong,

don't
hide
anything.
If
you
are
completely
honest
(as
Pettitte
was),
you'll
find
that
people

are
ready
and
willing
to
forgive.


And
this
is
as
true
in
business
as
in
any
other
realm.