Baseball Player Apology

A major league baseball player issued an apology this week. Pittsburgh Pirates outfielder Starling Marte was suspended for 80 games after testing positive for a performance-enhancing drug, the steroid Nandrolone. Here’s his statement:

“In this very difficult moment I apologize to my family, the Pittsburgh Pirates, my teammates, my fans, and baseball in general. Neglect and lack of knowledge have led me to this mistake with the high price to pay of being away from the field that I enjoy and love so much.

“With much embarrassment and helplessness, I ask for forgiveness for unintentionally disrespecting so many people who have trusted in my work and have supported me so much. I promise to learn the lesson that this ordeal has left me.”

What’s good about this apology:

  • He addresses everyone involved, recognizing that this affects not only his family and fans, but the public perception of baseball.
  • He asks for forgiveness.
  • He acknowledges that his act conveys a sense of disrespect to people who trusted him.
  • He admits feeling “embarrassed.”
  • At least he issued a statement of regret.

What’s wrong with this apology:

  • For what is he apologizing? He never explains what “this mistake” was.
  • He’s not taking responsibility. He attributes his mistake to “neglect and lack of knowledge” rather than to anything he actually did. No one takes a steroid by neglect.
  • He almost sounds like he’s sorry that he got caught, rather than for taking a banned drug. Words like “neglect,” “lack of knowledge,” “unintentional” and “helpless” are words from a victim, not from an offender taking responsibility for his actions. One gets the impression that he either did not know he was taking a steroid, or did not know that it was a banned drug, but if he’s truly sorry, he would admit that he should have known.
  • A good apology includes a willingness to accept the consequences. Being suspended from playing baseball is a logical consequence of breaking its rules, but he calls it a “high price to pay.” What does he think would’ve been a reasonable price?
  • He would sound more sincere if he had already learned the lesson, instead of promising that he will learn it.
  • He wants us to forgive him for “unintentionally disrespecting” us. Even if we can forgive him for that, can we forgive him for this weak apology?

 

More on Public Apologies

Today’s New York Times has an article saying, more eloquently and thoroughly than I could have, what I was suggesting in yesterday’s post about the difficulty of making a good public apology, as exemplified this week by White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer and United Airlines CEO Oscar Munez.

Public Apologies Are Tough to Get Right

Two apologies are evolving in this week’s news cycle: from White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer, regarding his comparison of Syria’s use of chemical weapons to Hitler’s, and from United Airlines CEO Oscar Munoz regarding the passenger who was forcibly removed from a plane this week. Each man has offered successive apologies, after his original apology was rejected. It goes to show how difficult it is to make a good apology, especially a public one.

In each case, I think the problem with the original apology was that the speaker was still trying to save face just a little: Spicer was still trying to emphasize the unique horror of a leader dropping bombs of lethal gas on his own people, and the United CEO wanted to imply that the passenger was at least partly at fault for what happened. Each had a point; but an effective apology needs to take full responsibility. The further explanation can come later.

Each man’s apology would’ve been better had it started with a gasp. If Spicer had reacted with shock when the reporter pointed out what he had just communicated, and said something like, “Oh my, I really blew it, that’s not at all what I meant to say,” he might have been forgiven. Might. If the United CEO had started off with a huge statement of regret about the whole incident — “What happened was horrible and I will make sure it never happens again” –, he might have had a chance to minimize the damage. Might. The statement Munoz issued today comes closer to a good apology, but it’s his third try.

It’s tough to make a good apology.

 

My Hero

Faithful, strong, generous, smart, caring, witty, honest, interested and interesting – these are only some of the qualities I admired in the man who is my hero.

He would laugh when I would tell him he was my hero. He would reply, “Many people have it much worse than I do.” But I’m not sure that’s true. He was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis when he was 30 and it took a relentless toll on his body. His eyes ceased to coordinate; for decades now, each permanently goes in a different direction. As his left side weakened, his left leg became as helpful as a sack of potatoes that he dragged around. He walked with a cane, then a walker. He fell often. His falls at work caused his employer to place him on disability while still in his 50’s. Unable to exercise, he developed arteriosclerosis, and had a heart attack. Before that, he had a bout with bladder cancer, forcing him to submit to the indignity of regular cystoscopies for the next thirty years. The MS led to poor circulation, causing peripheral neuropathy that caused nightly pain. That led to leg ulcers that wouldn’t heal, and hospital procedures to prevent infection. For years, a nurse had to change the dressing on his leg ulcers every one or two days, a painful process that took an hour.

This went on for decades. But, with quiet determination, he resisted. Most of us would have long since given up trying to walk or stand, and sunk into a wheelchair, but he was determined to retain the ability to walk, even if it was painfully slow. Many of us (at least, me!) might have slipped into bitterness, or self-pity, or depression. But there was not a hint of that. He rarely complained, and he revealed his challenges only when asked. That’s one of the reasons he was my hero.

Instead, he was interested in everyone and everything. He read widely, and used the internet to stay informed. Who needs Siri? We could ask him a question on just about any topic, and he’d have an answer. He loved history, politics, astronomy, languages, geography. He enjoyed good food, good wine, good music, and a good cigar. He loved to travel. He was an excellent photographer, until his vision and coordination made that impossible. He was a pilot in the Navy and never lost his love of aviation. He loved words, and wrote well; many a government representative has received one of his pointed letters.

When he was a freshman in college, he met the woman of his dreams, and he never looked at another woman after that. They’ve been married 62 years now. That’s another reason he’s my hero: he’s been faithful through all the ups and downs of married life, including her recent dementia.

Another person might take employment termination at the peak of his career as an invitation to seek revenge, sue for compensation, or disparage the employer. But that’s another characteristic of my hero: he didn’t carry grudges, he was quick to forgive, he saw the best in people – as long as they were trying. He had little patience with people he saw as lazy, or immoral, or cheaters. He loved the truth, and he revered honesty.

Really, the only way to explain his cheerful disposition in the face of his daily suffering is his faith. A devout Catholic, he attended daily Mass for much of his life, even when it took him a half hour to drag his limping body from his car into the pew. He didn’t blame or question God about the trials in his life. He was quick to express gratitude. He exemplified St. Paul’s observation, “To live is Christ, to die is gain.”

My hero: my father, who passed away last week at age 86. He’s exchanged his cross for a crown.

 

 

Court-Ordered Apology

Of what value is a judge-ordered apology? A Michigan court ordered a state official last week to apologize to Flint residents for her role in perpetuating the Flint water crisis. Will it help the official? Will it help Flint residents feel better?

There may be some value to the “offender,” who is forced to face the possibility of bearing some responsibility for the offense. But if the offender had any sense of remorse, wouldn’t the offender have expressed that before being compelled to do so?

It seems like it would have no value to the “victim.” An apology that is in any sense coerced usually rings hollow. The very fact that it is compelled negates the sincerity essential to an effective apology. Think about the apologies our moms forced our siblings to make to us; did those apologies reconcile us to our offending sibling? Quite the opposite—they made us feel vindicated, like we won and they lost.

Indeed, it seems like a court-ordered apology is simply another form of punishment for the offender, while some vindication for the victim. For these and other reasons, courts rarely “force” an offender to apologize – apology is rarely a component of a sentence.

What if the sentence had encouraged, rather than required, an apology? “…and if the defendant feels so moved, the defendant might consider apologizing in some fashion to the people she believes she may have harmed…” An apology under these circumstances might still be suspect, if the defendant sees this as quid pro quo, but it would allow an opportunity for some genuine repentance that is foreclosed by a compulsory apology.