For a leader, a public apology is always a high-risk move. Understanding what apologies can and cannot do will help you avoid foolhardy stonewalling or unnecessary contrition

When we wrong someone we know, even unintentionally, we are generally expected to apologise. The person we hurt feels entitled to an admission of error and an expression of regret. We, in turn, try to ameliorate the situation by saying, “I’m sorry,” and perhaps making restitution.

But when we are acting as leaders, the circumstances are different. Leaders are responsible not only for their own behaviour but also for that of their followers, who might number in the hundreds, thousands, or even millions. The first question, then, is, who exactly is the guilty party? The degree of damage is an issue as well. When a leader feels obliged to apologise, especially for a trespass in which followers were involved, the harm inflicted was likely serious, widespread, and enduring.

Since leaders speak for, as well as to, their followers, their apologies have broad implications. The act of apology is carried out not merely at the level of the individual but also at the level of the institution. It is not only personal but also political. It is a performance in which every expression matters and every word becomes part of the public record.

For leaders to apologise publicly is therefore a high-stakes move: for themselves, for their followers, and for the organisations they represent. Refusal to apologise can be smart, or it can be suicidal. Conversely, readiness to apologise can be seen as a sign of strong character or as a sign of weakness. A successful apology can turn enmity into personal and organisational triumph – while an apology that is too little, too late, or too transparently tactical can bring on individual and institutional ruin.

What, then, is to be done? How can leaders decide if and when to apologise publicly?

Why bother?
Why do we apologise? Why do we ever put ourselves in situations likely to be difficult, humiliating, and even risky? Leaders who apologise publicly are especially vulnerable. They are highly visible. They are expected to appear strong and competent. And whenever they make public statements of any kind, their individual and institutional reputations are at stake. Clearly, then, leaders should not apologise often or lightly. For a leader to express contrition, there needs to be a good, strong reason.

In Mea Culpa: A Sociology of Apology and Reconciliation, Nicholas Tavuchis writes that apologies speak to acts that cannot be undone “but that cannot go unnoticed without compromising the current and future relationship of the parties.” Thus, this general principle: Leaders will publicly apologise if and when they calculate the costs of doing so to be lower than the costs of not doing so. More precisely, leaders will apologise if and when they calculate that staying silent threatens a “current and future relationship” between them and one or more key constituencies-followers, customers, stockholders, or the public.

There are four possible answers to the question of why a leader would endure the discomfort and assume the risk of offering a public apology. That is, apologies can serve four purposes:

Individual purpose. The leader made a mistake or committed a wrongdoing. The leader publicly apologises to encourage followers to forgive and forget.

Institutional purpose. One or more persons in the group for which the leader is responsible made a mistake or committed a wrongdoing. The leader apologises to restore the group’s internal cohesion and external reputation.

Intergroup purpose. One or more persons in the group for which the leader is responsible made a mistake or committed a wrongdoing that inflicted harm on one or more persons on the outside. The leader publicly apologises to repair relations with injured parties.

Moral purpose. The leader experiences genuine remorse for a mistake made or a wrongdoing committed, either individually or institutionally. The leader publicly apologises to ask forgiveness and seek redemption.

The first three purposes are primarily strategic and rooted in self-interest. The last purpose is primarily authentic: An apology is extended because it is the right thing to do. As a general principle, leaders should apologise only if doing so serves one of these purposes.

Apologising
People speak of ‘a simple apology’, but there is no such thing. To acknowledge a trans-gression, seek forgiveness, and make things right is a complex act. Apologies are prompted by fear, guilt, and love – and by the calculation of personal or professional gain. They are shaped by culture, context, and gender. They are base and self-serving or generous and high-minded. And when extended in public, they amount to performances to which different audiences react in different ways.

What, then, constitutes a good apology, a full apology, one that’s likely to work? Above all, a good apology must be seen as genuine, as an honest appeal for forgiveness. Such apologies are usually best offered in a timely manner, and they consist of the following four parts: an acknowledgment of the mistake or wrongdoing, the acceptance of responsibility, an expression of regret, and a promise that the offense will not be repeated.

In corporate America, the good apology extended by Johnson & Johnson during the Tylenol crisis has taken on almost mythic proportions. Although the case is about a quarter-century old, it is still considered a near-perfect example of what a leader should do when things go wrong. In 1982, seven people died from cyanide inserted into Tylenol capsules. Although the crisis was brought on by an individual (who was never caught) rather than an institution (Johnson & Johnson), and subsequent evidence indicated that the killer had no relationship whatsoever to the company, James Burke, Johnson & Johnson’s CEO at the time, immediately assumed responsibility for the disaster. People were told not to consume Tylenol products. Production and advertising were halted. And Tylenol capsules already in stores were recalled (at an estimated cost of some US$100 mn), while company executives worked tirelessly to resolve the crisis.

Burke also went public-appearing, for example, on 60 Minutes – to reaffirm the company’s mission. “Our first responsibility is to our customers,” he said in an early statement, and he wasted no time inviting consumers to return their bottles of Tylenol for a voucher: “Don’t risk it. Take the voucher so that when this crisis is over we can give you a product we both know is safe.”

In short, given the nature of the crisis, Burke extended the virtually perfect public apology. He promptly acknowledged the problem. He accepted responsibility. He expressed concern. And he put his money where his mouth was. Not only did he offer to exchange all Tylenol capsules already purchased for Tylenol tablets; he promised new, secure packaging to make certain that the problem would never be repeated. Marketing experts had opined that the Tylenol brand would not survive-but they were wrong.

Within a year, Tylenol (in tamper-resistant packaging) had regained 90% of its market share. If anything, both the company and the brand emerged from the crisis with their reputations enhanced.

Refusing to apologise
Given the advantages of public apologies promptly and properly extended, why is it that leaders so often refuse to apologise, even when a public apology seems to be in order? Their reasons can be individual or institutional. Because leaders are highly visible, their public apologies are likely to be personally uncomfortable and even professionally risky. Leaders may also be afraid that the admission of a mistake or wrongdoing will damage or destroy the group or organisation for which they are responsible – particularly if there is the threat of litigation. There can be good reasons for hanging tough in tough situations, but it is a high-risk strategy.

There is evidence that stonewalling is not necessarily smart even in the most potentially litigious situations. Ameeta Patel and Lamar Reinsch of Georgetown University concluded in their study of corporate apologies that the folklore about the legal consequences of apologies is simplistic and misleading, to the detriment of all concerned. They found that apologies can make positive contributions, even “to the apologists’ legal strategy.” Conversely, evidence suggests that the refusal to apologise – the unwillingness to accept any responsibility or to express any remorse for situations in which there could clearly be some culpability – can get leaders and their followers into trouble.

Saying sorry selectively
Apologising in public is not easy, especially for leaders. They are heroes when things go right, and scapegoats when things go wrong.

In addition, public apologies extended by corporate leaders are not, even under the best of circumstances, without risk to their companies. Several experts have warned of the possible downsides. But even those who prescribe caution agree that a good apology made in a timely fashion is more likely to ameliorate a bad situation than to exacerbate it.

A public apology should serve an important individual, institutional, intergroup, or moral purpose. That being said, if the offense is institutional rather than individual, the top leader (the chief executive officer, for example) is not necessarily the best person to extend the apology.

Sometimes the institution is better served if someone further down the organisational ladder acknowledges the problem and expresses regret. In other words, leaders of groups and organisations should consider Apologising publicly only if and when a critical interest is at stake, and only if and when they’re the only ones who can do the work that needs to be done.

How best to apologise depends on the nature of the situation. A full apology includes acknowledgment of the offense, acceptance of responsibility, expression of regret, and a promise not to repeat the offense.

But sometimes a partial apology – for example, the acceptance of responsibility or an expression of regret – is better than nothing. Further, while apologies generally should follow hard on the heels of the transgression, lest the offending individual or institution be viewed as avoiding blame or as begrudging in its atonement, there are situations – for instance, when large numbers of people have suffered – in which haste makes waste.

Most apologies are motivated by self-interest. But the reason they matter is because, ultimately, they serve a larger social purpose. When leaders apologise publicly, whether to or on behalf of their followers, they are engaging in what Tavuchis calls a “secular rite of expiation,” which cannot be understood merely in terms of expediency.

The attempt to come clean is more than an explanation and more than an admission: It is an exchange in which leaders and their listeners engage in order to move on. It is in turn this transition, from the past to the future, that enables the course correction that mistakes and wrongdoing require.

Harvard Business School Publishing. Copyright 2006. (Distributed by New York Times Special Features) http://hmu.harvardbusinessonline.org