Should you apologize?
Should you apologize?
When applying Golden Rule is not so clearcut. . .
“I’m sorry.”
For what?
As a child, our understanding of apology and its related wrongdoing was fairly straightforward:
If you cause someone harm, you apologize. Because “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
As an adult—and to the extent you engage in meaningful intimate relationships—the dynamic of apology becomes far more complex.
To best describe what I mean, I would put apologies into three different categories, based on the nature of the “wrongdoing”:
Actual Harm
Potential Harm
Omission of Good
Apologies related to actual harm are the most straightforward.
Say, you spilled coffee on a friend’s shirt. It doesn’t take much empathy or sense of justice to understand that, “Yea, I wouldn’t like it if someone spilled coffee on me either → I’m sorry.”
The harm caused is clearcut, mutually understood with ease, and, you might even say, objective.
But what about situations related to potential harm?
You ran with the cup in your hand and stopped abruptly, almost spilling the coffee on your friend, giving him a scare, but nothing bad actually happened.
Or less trivially, you imagine someone driving 100 MPH recklessly on a winding road. At the end of the journey, the passenger demands an apology, but the obstinate driver says "For what? Nothing bad happened. We’ve arrived, safe and sound.”
In this case, there was risk that something bad could have happened, even though the actual outcome was fine. So should there be an apology?
No matter what the scenario, one can always claim that something bad could have happened, which would imply that you should always apologize for potential harm. . . but intuitively we all know that not every scenario merits an apology.
We can at least consider what the probability is of a bad event happening given a particular action.
This would lead us to ask: Based on my actions, how likely was it that something bad could have happened to the other person?
That’s a start.
But then what do you do with that number?
For some scenarios, you might say the potential for harm occurring was 20%. For other scenarios you might say that the potential was 2%.
What’s the probability threshold of “potential harm” that should merit an apology? Does each person get to decide for themselves what probability is “dangerous enough” that it becomes “wrong”? Do we act based on some average cultural threshold?
In behavioral sciences, one also learns that everybody has a different level of risk aversion / tolerance. One’s personal appetite for risks influences the “potential harm” that they see in things.
So then, how does the Golden Rule apply here? Are you obligated to treat others according to their own personal risk tolerances?
Do unto others. . .based on the risk tolerances that they have? Or based on the risk tolerance that you would have if you were experiencing the situation that they were experiencing, but through the lens of your own personality configuration?
What if someone’s risk sensitivity is so high that it becomes maladaptive to their own genuine flourishing? How would encouraging such a person to grow out of their “comfort zone” fit into all of this?
Imagine an extreme case of an individual who will never leave the house because he is paranoid of the “potential harm” of the outdoor air, or something. You, believing that exposure to the outdoors will be good for him, take him for a walk. He’s accused you of putting him in grave danger. Did you do something wrong? Or something good? Should you apologize?
Is there any way to be objective about this or is it an entirely subjective exercise?
When actual harm happens - the damage is there. At a societal scale, we can accept being judged on the basis of actual harm we have caused to others. But would you be comfortable being held accountable for the Expected Value of the harm your action might cause?
Or even worse, on the Expected Negative Utility someone else may experience as a result of your action?
(Nerdy I know 🤓 . . . What this means is that instead of just potential harm, it becomes even more subjective when you talk about perception of potential harm. And that opens up pandora’s box of biases such as availability bias and representative bias, which can lead a person to have a distorted perception of probability.)
The third category of apology relates to the omission of good.
In practice, it’s when you apologize for not doing something that someone else expected you to do.
Your colleague silently watched you eat that last piece of pizza, and you didn’t consider that he wanted or needed it more than you. . . 😄
This category of apology is nuanced and can be broken down into two distinct types: Objective Omission of Good and Subjective Omission of Good (or Unmet Expectations).
On one hand, there are Objective Omissions of Good, where the apology arises from failing to uphold what might be considered a transcendent Moral Law or absolute standard of goodness.
Examples could include failing to help a friend in need or not speaking out against clear injustice when you had the capacity to do so. In these cases, the good that was omitted is something that, by general consensus, everyone should strive to do regardless of personal or societal expectations.
On the other hand, there are Subjective Omissions of Good, or Unmet Expectations. These apologies are for failing to meet someone’s specific, personal expectations, which may or may not align with universal standards of goodness.
For instance, a partner expecting a goodnight text every night might feel neglected if it's missed, even if such a practice isn’t universally expected or required by a transcendent Moral Law.
In theory, you could at any moment be considered guilty of not doing an infinite number of other, more positive things, than the thing you actually did.
Any time you fall short of perfection (which is every day) or fail to act in a way that maximizes the common good with every decision you make, someone could conceivably call you out on omitting the good.
At its extreme, it’s the apology of: “I’m sorry I’m not a saint.” (objective) and “I’m sorry I didn’t know you deeply enough and serve you well enough.” (subjective)
Of course, these beg the questions of: Is it reasonable to expect other people to act like saints and demand an apology from them when they don’t? Similarly, to what extent is it their fault for not knowing you well enough or catering to your needs?
Under basic social norms of reciprocity, healthy individuals aim to hold others to the same standards they hold themselves to and vice versa.
i.e. Remove the big log out of your own eye before commenting on the speck of dust in the other person’s eye.
But a perfect symmetry of behavioral expectations between two people is never the case. One person will always more more lenient with what they expect than the other, which makes things. . . complicated.
In a perfect world, with zero communication gaps, relationships between people might entail brutally honest upfront level-setting of expectations. Something like:Person A: Hey, I've been thinking. Before we go any further in our partnership, it's important we lay all our cards on the table. What do you say?
Person B: Sounds fair. What did you have in mind?
Person A: Let's be completely transparent about our expectations in this relationship. For instance, I expect regular check-ins and open communication. I apologize in advance if I ever fall short in providing support when you need it. What about you?
Person B: I appreciate that. I expect honesty, even when it's hard to hear. And I apologize if I ever seem too demanding or critical. I’m working on that.
Person A: Got it. And just so we're clear, if we're both upfront about our expectations and apologize when we fall short, we're good?
Person B: Absolutely. Let’s make this work.
*End Scene*
Isn’t that nice?
Unfortunately, in our imperfect world, we often expect others to read our minds and know what bothers us, with others doing the same thing to us as well.
”How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go to that event?”
“When you said ‘end of day’, you wanted this task done by 5pm?”
“You wanted me to bring something for dinner? I thought we were just hanging out.”
etc.
So then, when should you apologize for omission of good? Only when the other person has made their expectations explicit and you’ve consented to these in advance? Any time someone asks you to, irrespective of whether could have conceivably known their expectations in advance?
How should we apply the Golden Rule to this category of apology?
What kind of apologies do you find yourself giving most? What kind of apologies do you most often expect from others?
Those related to actual harm, potential harm, or omission of good?
Is there a match between what you expect from others and what you dish out yourself?
Are you the kind of person who tends to apologize any time someone asks for one, or do you reserve your expressions of apology for only when you genuinely believe that you have caused harm?
I think one’s encountered mix of these apologies depends on the depth of relationships they have.
With strangers, we operate almost exclusively in the domain of “actual harm” apologies.
i.e. I can’t imagine very many circumstances where one would apologize to a stranger for putting him in a risky situation (an apology for potential, but not realized, harm) or for failing to do something good, like getting him a gift (apology for an omission of good/unmet expectations).
This is because our expectations from strangers are minimal compared to those we hold for our closest connections.
In deeper relationships, we invest more—sharing our vulnerabilities, resources, hopes, and fears.
The deepest relationships involve profound trust—or, better said, an entrustment of a meaningful part of our lives in their hands, and vice versa.
When someone gives you VIP access to the gift of their life, they expect you to handle it with delicate care.
So it would seem that the nature and frequency of apologies does indeed vary along the spectrum of relationship depth.
Reflecting on all of this, I’m also struck by the intriguing ways our personalities influence these dynamics of apology.
Individuals with low neuroticism and high openness tend to be resilient and accepting, making them less likely to feel threatened by potential harms and generally more forgiving. However, this same disposition may make them less sensitive to the relational subtleties that can lead to distress in others.
Conversely, those high in neuroticism might perceive potential harms more acutely and have more stringent expectations of behavior, creating a higher demand for apologies.
Acknowledging these disparities is crucial, as no relationship is immune to mismatches in expectations, resulting in an inevitable imbalance in the apologies exchanged.
By becoming more aware of our personal tendencies and the dynamics at play, we can initiate open conversations about our expectations.
This paves the way towards more resilient and harmonious connections, both in our personal lives and professional spheres.
The Golden Rule is framed generically for a reason. The onus is on us to grow in the virtue of Prudence by meditating on how to apply it, yet I hope that having conversations like these may make each of our respective growth journeys easier.
