Canadians are a sorry lot. Being sorry is twisted into the DNA of the country and its inhabitants. Sorry is probably the second most used word—conjunctions notwithstanding—in Canada after eh, eh? Sorry.
Justin Trudeau has almost made a career out of apologizing. Certainly he’s set the high mark for Canadian Prime Ministers. Many would say that’s not much of an accomplishment and the high mark for JT may be a fairly low bar, not to torture the language any more than I have to. Sorry.
As a field of academic/pseudoscience study, the art of apology is well-researched, assuming research is the right word. In the world of spin doctors—”communications” experts—the apologist is a thriving subset, focusing exclusively on coaching people who need to apologize on ways of doing so effectively, while hopefully allowing them to retain the position they’ve put in jeopardy by saying/doing something for which they need to apologize, if not resign.
Apologies come in many guises. There’s the all-too-familiar heartfelt apology used by men of power who’ve been caught fooling around. Looking remorseful for having been caught—though rarely for actually diddling their intern—they’re a bit choked up and flanked by a supportive spouse who just happens to have a good divorce lawyer on speed dial. They seek forgiveness, promising it’ll never happen again, meaning getting caught, not diddling.
There’s the powerful, “I’m sorry, I screwed up and I take full responsibility,” apology. Unfortunately, the responsibility being taken is often the act of apology, not fixing what their screw up has harmed, or actually falling on their sword.
There’s my second favourite, the pre-emptive apology. Nearly 28 years ago—December 8, 1995 if you must know—in the pages of the one-year-old Pique, I wrote: “I would like to take this opportunity to apologize, in advance, to whomever gets stuck proofreading my stuff.” In retrospect, it seems like a weak apology. But I never expected there would still be someone having to proofread my stuff a quarter of a century later. If there’s a saving grace, I’ve mostly learned Canadian spelling.
And then, there’s my favourite—the threatening apology. I’m not sure it’s a real, as in academically-recognized, form of apology, but I’m partial to it. It goes like this. “I’d like to apologize for what I said/wrote about you. I was admittedly shooting from the hip. Had I actually dug a little deeper into the facts of the matter, I wouldn’t have called you what I called you. I’d probably have gone right to hitting you with a baseball bat now that I know what a low-life you really are. Please accept my apology... if for no other reason than I’m not sure where I left my bat.”
The lawyers suggested I not send that apology. I suggested we get better lawyers. Impasse.
In the world of apology, there are two places where people tend to drop the ball. The first is simply not apologizing. The second is following through on their apology.
The single most important element of apology is for the apologizer to accept responsibility. Let’s face it—without that, there is really no apology. But accepting responsibility is necessary but not necessarily sufficient.
Okay, we all know what I’m talking about. Yeah, Nazis in the Commons.
Last Friday, during a state visit to the House of Commons by Volodymyr Zelensky, president of all Ukrainians, Speaker Anthony Rota introduced a 98-year-old constituent from his riding of Nipissing-Timiskaming, a riding I believe was named by Dr. Seuss. Much to the chagrin of, well, everyone, the old man was introduced as both Ukrainian and a hero of the Second World War. Both of those facts might have been true, but the hero part would only have been true if the Germans, for whom the fêted “hero” fought, had won the war.
There are now embarrassing photos and videos of every member of Parliament and President Zelensky standing and applauding the former SS soldier, who was brought to tears by the ovation, possibly thinking all was forgiven. Oops. Sorry.
As soon as the truth of the matter was brought to his attention, Speaker Rota apologized over the weekend. He rose in the House of Commons on Monday and apologized again, accepting full responsibility for the oversight.
This is, of course, where the follow-through failed to follow through. The second most important element of an effective apology is the recovery, or, if you prefer, the offer to repair the damage done.
While there is a well-known formula for comedy—tragedy plus time equals funny—there is likely to be no time long enough for introducing a former Nazi to the gathered legislative body of Canada and a respected world leader as a hero to be considered funny. It was a mistake—and I truly believe an honest, if inept, mistake—of such grave consequence there was only one remedy that would begin to atone for having committed it. Mr. Rota should have apologized and stepped down from his role as Speaker.
Mr. Rota was dead Speaker walking until his inevitable resignation Tuesday afternoon. This was not a case of better late than never. By not taking the initiative immediately, by drawing out the outrage of much of the country and sniggering of some of the world, the damage done escalated beyond what the incident demanded.
It reached the Kremlin, where Mr. Putin is gleefully saying, “See! I told you I was fighting Nazis in Ukraine.” It has offended Canada’s and the world’s Jewish community. It has made President Zelensky—whose stop in Canada was supposed to set a high mark for his fundraising trip—look like a doofus.
And it has even made the Prime Minister look bad. Just when you thought with everything making him look bad nothing could make him look worse. While he’s apologized for pretty much everything he can think of—much of it his own doing—JT was uncharacteristically quiet about this event, with the notable exception of denying having any part in inviting the SS war hero.
U.S. President Harry Truman had a sign on his desk that said, “The buck stops here.” The bucks alluded to were the currency of responsibility, not greenbacks. Though eschewing any responsibility in the matter, the Prime Minister is the Big Kahuna, Canadianwise. He has the pulpit to offer an apology on behalf of the House and Canada.
But with all his practice, he left it up to Mr. Rota to, “consider his future as Speaker ... I’m sure he (Mr. Rota) is reflecting now on how to ensure the dignity of the House going forward.”
That ship sailed earlier in the week, dithered away by indecision, a desire perhaps to retain his position and an incomplete understanding of the power of apology.
Sorry, Anthony. Sorry Justin. Your apology, and lack thereof, sucks.
(Editor's note: Trudeau apologized publicly on Sept. 27, after Pique went to press.)
