the unapology

Last week, Julie Payette, the Governor General of Canada, resigned under a black cloud of scathing allegations that she created a toxic atmosphere of bullying, harassment, and verbal abuse. A clear misuse of power.   

To me, her statement was bathed in PR spin, privilege, defensiveness, and deflection. It was the classic example of an "unapology". While she did make a meek attempt at an apology, in her statement, she also said "We all experience things differently, but we should always strive to do better, and be attentive to one another's perceptions", which I think is akin to saying "I'm sorry that you think I offended you.”  

She did not exemplify leadership, she did not take responsibility for her actions and she did not demonstrate Canadian values. Instead, her statement lacked respect, sincerity, vulnerability, accountability, and a heartfelt apology.  

And I got to thinking about why accountability and apologies matter so much when it comes to workplace investigations.  

I once conducted a workplace investigation for a company where a Manager was found to have engaged in a pattern of belittling, bullying, and harassing several of their employees. I submitted my report, and a few hours later, the CEO called me to say that while they agreed with my findings, I had missed one key recommendation. Ever curious and open to learning, I asked what I had missed. The CEO told me that I had forgotten to include the recommendation requiring the Manager to apologize to staff they had belittled, bullied, and harassed for many months.

I paused and took a deep breath.  

I told the CEO that for the apology to be (and be seen as) genuine, meaningful, and heartfelt, the Manager would have to accept accountability for their actions, comments, conduct, and behaviour. They would have to acknowledge the impact that their behaviour had on the physical, mental, and emotional well-being of staff and they would have to offer a firm commitment to change their behaviour. And then they would have to do the hard work and honour their commitment to changing their behaviour. But the reality was that the Manager didn’t believe they were in the wrong. Throughout the investigation process, the Manager remained steadfast in their position that they were innocent, and that their employees were too soft, too entitled, and needed constant coddling. They were simply managing a group of underperforming employees. Even when confronted with more than two handfuls of examples of mistreatment, the Manager remained entrenched in their position. They would not and could not acknowledge or accept that they had engaged in a pattern of wildly inappropriate and blisteringly disrespectful conduct.  

So, any apology that the Manager made would be insincere in intent and ineffective in impact.

You can't make anyone feel sorry.  

You can't make anyone take accountability.  

You can't make anyone see that they were wrong.  

You can't make anyone change.  

This situation took me back to the playground at recess when I was in grade school, many moons ago. There was an older boy in another class who was the bane of my existence. He used to pull my hair, call me names and bully me to the point of tears at recess. For a few weeks, I didn't say anything to my teacher or my parents, for fear that they would tell me to "fight my own battles". And this gnawing pit of fear and dread grew in my stomach. I hoped and prayed that he would stop on his own, that he would suddenly and miraculously develop a sense of decency, that he would see the impact that his bullying was having on me, and that he would stop terrorizing me. Not so. On one particularly rainy day, the boy tripped me so that I fell in the mud, and when one of my friends tried to help me up, he pushed her down, too. So now, he wasn’t just bullying me. He was bullying my friends, too. I finally told my teacher what was going on. She called the boy's parents and by 2:30 p.m. that day, I found myself face to face with this boy and his angry parents in the Principal's office. After hearing about the situation, his mother sternly insisted that he apologize to me.  

He muttered in my general direction that he was sorry.  

And I remember heaving a big sigh of relief that this nightmare was finally over, that this deep pit of fear, dread, and nausea in my stomach would go away, and that I could finally look forward to recess again. But the next day at recess, he marched right up to me, and let me know that I could expect the same from him - only worse, to reward me for tattling on him.  

And that's the day that I learned that "sorry" doesn't mean anything without accountability.

I'm sorry. Two words. Two of the most overused words strung together to mean nothing in our vocabulary. As humans, we are terrible at apologizing.

A good apology has three parts:

1)    "I'm sorry."

2)    "It's my fault."  

3)    "What can I do to make things right?"

The second part, the accountability piece, is the hard part. As people, we have a deep-seated need to protect ourselves from harm and criticism. When someone tells us that we have offended them by something that we said, did, or didn't do, our fight instinct takes over and we automatically move to a defensive stance. We say things like: "I didn't mean it like that" or worse, we say things like "you're being too sensitive."

I recently listened to the episodes of Brené Brown's Unlocking Us podcast where she and Harriet Lerner discuss:  "I'm Sorry: How to Apologize & Why it Matters".  Here is my favourite quote from the podcast: "A true apology does not include the word 'but'. When there is a 'but', anything that follows is a criticism, a justification, or an excuse. If you intend to apologize, don't say 'but'.  If you intend to tell someone they're an asshole, don't pretend that it's an apology." After I  stopped laughing, I listened to that quote again. And it's so true. A "but" in an apology makes it insincere, it cheapens it, and it makes it so that they're just empty words strung together.

When someone comes to you and tells you that you have said or done something that they felt offended by, you create a negative impact (regardless of whether you intended to or not). When this happens, one of the worst things that we can do is deflect responsibility for it. It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to hurt the other person, it doesn't matter if no one else was offended, it doesn't matter if you have a lot going on right now and it certainly doesn't matter if mercury is in retrograde.  

What matters is listening to the other person with an open heart and an open mind. And I mean being present in the moment, and really listening to them, not listening to respond. It means trying to understand how what you said or did made them feel, it means accepting accountability for the impact that your comments or actions had on another person, it means acknowledging that you've made a mistake (because impact > intent), it means offering a genuine, heartfelt and authentic apology. And it means doing the hard work to learn, grow and make sure that you don't make the same mistake again.  

Real accountability takes vulnerability, courage, and self-reflection.

Put yourself in their shoes. Think about how much courage it took for that person to come and talk to you about this situation. They care enough about your relationship with them to tell you this. They are coming to you from a raw and vulnerable place, so how you respond in that moment is critical. It can result in rebuilding trust, strengthening a relationship, and understanding and respecting each other on a deeper level. Handled poorly, it can also result in ongoing stress and tensions, a toxic work environment, and/or a workplace investigation.

I once conducted a workplace investigation where the respondent was accused of using racist, misogynistic, and inappropriate language. Near the end of my final investigation interview with the respondent, they said to me: "I'm not a perfect person. I've made mistakes and I've said things that I'm not proud of. But the world is a very unforgiving place, people don't get second chances and cancel culture is the norm now."  

I said to the respondent "it might feel like the world has no tolerance and isn't forgiving of mistakes, but from my perspective, and from what I've seen, people are open to forgiveness if the person who made the mistake stands in the light, admits that they made a mistake, takes accountability for the mistake, expresses genuine remorse, attempts to make private or public apologies and commits to learning, growing and doing better."

In my 20+ years in HR, I have conducted over 100 workplace investigations and one of the questions that I always ask the complainant(s) [the person(s) who filed the complaint] is "what outcome are you seeking in this investigation?" Not once, has someone told me that they want the other person fired. They tell me that they want the inappropriate comments, conduct, or actions to stop, to feel safe, for the work environment to be healthy, and for communications to be respectful.  

The best apology then is changed behaviour.

Oh, and if you're wondering if that hideous boy bullied me up until the time I left for college, he didn't. Karma, the universe, or a stroke of good luck stepped in and his father was transferred to another town a few hours away. Let's hope that along the way, he had some good teachers and mentors, some moments of clarity and that he isn't the same little shit that he was back in the day.

January 25, 2021

Saira Gangji is an independent licensed Workplace Investigator at hrology in Calgary, AB. She investigates allegations of discrimination and human rights, harassment, violence and misconduct in the workplace. For more information about hrology and our process, see the work with me page.