Ooop, sorry

Your Humble Blogger has been thinking, lately, about apologies. Not only are we into the Days of Awe, during which time we tend to run around like rabbits, apologizing to everybody we meet and also streetlights and newspaper boxes, but there has been a rather prominent apology in the news. I wound up commenting on it over at Making Light, but I think there is more to be said, and more generally.

The short version of the news story is that Pope Benedict the Sixteenth, in a speech to an academic crowd, quoted the Byzantine emperor Manuel II Paleologus: “Show me just what Mohammed brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached.” Bye-the-bye, I am quoting the provisional English translation provided by the Vatican; the original speech was in German, and the text was (I think) in Greek. Still, I think it’s clear why many Muslims were offended. True, the Bishop of Rome was only quoting a long-ago emperor, but it’s not absolutely clear from the context whether he does so approvingly. He describes the language as brusque and forceful (at least in English translation), which is critical but does not connote disagreement, and the point of the quote is to express agreement with Manuel’s ultimate point, that “Whoever would lead someone to faith needs the ability to speak well and to reason properly, without violence and threats.” He clearly agrees with the latter (thank the Lord), so one could well infer that he agrees with the former. Or else why quote it? At least, why quote it without explicitly stating his disagreement with it, in a figure of the sort which says “True, I disagree with Manuel II Paleologus when he says ... but surely he is correct in saying ...”, which is a fine rhetorical trick, although more often used when the audience is familiar with the authority.

At any rate, after offense was taken, the Vatican released two statements that have been referred to as apologies. Both statements are what might be termed statements-of-regret, and both are written in careful terms to avoid stating that the Holy Father made an error of any kind. In the statement of 16th September, Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone declares that “The Holy Father thus sincerely regrets that certain passages of his address could have sounded offensive to the sensitivities of the Muslim faithful, and should have been interpreted in a manner that in no way corresponds to his intentions.” The statement is clearly one that stands by the initial statement, and comes off a trifle indignant that anybody could have read into the speech anything bad in any way. The Cardinal hopes that Moslems “will be helped to understand the correct meaning of his words”. The Holy See does not say that Pope Benedict regrets having quoted the words in question, nor does it say that he regrets having been unclear about it.

I’m getting to a point.

It seems to me that an apology must, by its nature, include an admission of guilt. If somebody apologizes to you for something, he is saying I fucked up. I did what I ought not to have done. Now, I am sorry I did it.

I have made a couple of apologies this week, it being the Days of Awe and all, and the thing about them that is hard is that I have to identify the fuck-up, and furthermore identify the right thing to have done (or at least a better thing to have done), at which point the next step, feeling regret that I made the wrong choice, is easy. Then, there’s the even harder part, where I attempt to articulate the whole thing to my unfortunate victim, ideally without offending the poor bastard any more than I already have.

Well, and usually it’s something like “sorry I haven’t called more often”, or “sorry about being so lazy about housework”, or “sorry I said that thing about your mother”. Easy enough to identify, easy enough to identify the better course, easy enough to articulate. Sometimes, it’s harder.

There’s an added question: why did I fuck up? Normally, I’m against including this sort of thing in an apology. It’s something that’s good for me to know about myself (I dislike talking on the telephone, or think I do, anyway; I am fundamentally lazy; I was cross about something else entirely and took a cheap shot because it was easy), but having learned (or in most cases relearned) something about myself, it does not necessarily follow that I need to explain it to my friend. Who probably knows how lazy I am. Sure, if there is an ensuing conversation, which might be good, the whole motivation thing can come up, but fundamentally, it has no place in the apology. The motivation thing is integrally connected to the repentance thing, in that I use my understanding of the motivation to help me not do it again. If the motivation shows up in the apology, though, it is likely to be viewed as an excuse for having done it, and more than that, an excuse to do it again. And, you know, if you are going to do it again, the apology doesn’t count.

There’s another problem that turns up with Rosh Hashanah apologies. After you have sought out people you have wronged, and made recompense, then it’s considered appropriate to say to the rest of your acquaintance something like “If I have hurt or offended you in any way, in the last year, I apologize.” This is nice, but it doesn’t take the place of the specific apologies, and it’s easy to let it stand in for them. That’s bad enough, but it’s worse when the form attaches itself to what ought to be an apology for a specific matter: If somebody was offended by the stupid thing I said, I regret it. That’s not an apology, it’s ass-covering. Get rid of the if. Having said something stupid (and who hasn’t?), regret having said it, whether anybody was offended or not. And at the very least take responsibility for causing offence. Don’t state that you regret that other people took offense, regret (if you do) that you caused offense. Unless you want to defend what you said as being entirely inoffensive. Which it wasn’t. Whatever it was. As you can tell by the fact that you are apologizing for it.

Now, I can talk all day about how the leader of the Catholic Church failed to apologize properly in this instance, but honestly, nobody was surprised that he abominates Islam, and nobody thinks his apology was sincere, and the people who claimed to be shocked and offended were not entirely sincere themselves. The whole situation is a crock. On the other hand, it was helpful to me to examine the ways in which I thought the statement of regret failed to be an apology, to find out just what my criteria for an apology are. And I still have more to make.

chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek,
-Vardibidian.