Sorry, Not Sorry: Why We’re So Bad At Apologizing (And How To Get Better)
Earlier this year, my daughter’s teacher emailed to let me know that some playground antics had gotten out of hand (I believe some sand throwing was involved) and that another girl would be sending my daughter an apology note. It felt a bit like overkill, but I said ok and didn’t think too much about it.
But then when the note arrived, I… was underwhelmed.
“I am sorry your feelings were hurt,” it said.
I wasn’t sure the situation warranted a note in the first place, but if you’re going to apologize, everybody knows “I’m sorry your feelings were hurt” is the last thing you’re supposed to say when apologizing. Or… do they?
Why we’re so bad at apologizing
Whenever we want to understand why we as humans struggle with something — whether it’s apologizing, taking risks, or overthinking — the answer usually lies in our evolutionary wiring (our “caveman”/”cavewoman” brains).
One of the experts on these caveman brains is Russ Harris, physician and author of the best-selling book The Happiness Trap. Harris explains how our brains evolved largely for survival in small hunter-gatherer groups – where belonging and status and risk awareness were a matter of life and death – and not for the modern social complexity we face today.
Even in 2025, our brains act as if they’re still stuck in ancient times, and so they don’t always come up with the right solutions right away. This is why we can shy away from offering an apology, even when it’s the right approach for a situation – we’re biologically wired to do so:
Our threat detection systems actually light up at the possibility of humiliation, rejection, or loss of status.
The amygdala treats social pain (embarrassment, shame) almost identically to physical pain.
We’re wired to avoid both kinds of pain—so our instincts say, Don’t go there.
We avoid the uncomfortable feelings and perceived risk that our brains associate with saying sorry. Apologizing requires overriding that hardwired self-protection. That’s why it’s so uncomfortable.
Overriding our threat responses: thoughts ≠ facts
When we feel that discomfort, our minds produce all kinds of justifying thoughts to avoid having to apologize:
“The other person hurt me, too, so I’m not going to apologize first.”
“They’re overreacting.”
“It’s not really my fault.”
But Harris urges us to remember that thoughts are not facts.
Our brains are remarkable, but in their earnest desire to protect us from pain, they often overdo it: they can be too helpful and try to protect us too much from pain, at the sacrifice of progress.
The key, like most things in life, is balance: trusting our intuition while not accepting each of our thoughts as gospel.
If you like analogies, we are all like factories and our thoughts are the widgets we produce; many of our thought-widgets are great, but it’s not unusual for some of them to have defects due to “factory errors” like cognitive biases, inflated risk assessment, or missing information. Every production line has variability, and our brains (even the smartest ones) are no exception. Our role is quality control: deciding which thoughts to greenlight and which ones to toss in the trash bin.
Easier said than done, but what works well is remembering that ruptures are inevitable; it’s how we address them that will shape our relationships. Think of customer service: some of the worst experiences can turn into the best ones when handled with care and speed. The same is true for apologies. A rupture is never the goal, but when paired with repair, it can actually strengthen the relationship.
Anatomy of a good apology
Tactically, there is no “right” way to apologize, but suffice to say, “sorry” on its own usually doesn’t cut it.
A good apology makes it possible to repair the rupture, acknowledge your role in it, take ownership, and demonstrate effort and remorse. The sooner the better, but it’s never too late.
So what does a good apology look like? We like to hit these points, which you can remember with this SORRY acronym:
Start with their name – Dale Carnegie wasn’t wrong in How to Win Friends and Influence People: “a person's name is to that person the sweetest and most important sound in any language.” Say their name, so that the person you’re addressing is primed to receive your message.
Own the action – State the behavior that you’re sorry for, not just how the other person feels, but for the part you played in hurting them. If you’re using the passive voice (“I’m sorry your feelings were hurt”), you’re probably missing the mark. You can provide context but make sure it’s only context; as Benjamin Franklin said: “Never ruin an apology with an excuse.”
Recognize the impact (intended or not) – Demonstrate you understand the impact of your actions on the other person. Leave space for them to explain the impact from their perspective, too.
Repair with action – State how you’ll make things right or do better next time.
You mean it – Show the remorse if you can muster it. One thing we hear from clients is that someone has apologized to them, but that it doesn’t feel like the person is sorry. A lackluster apology is better than no apology at all, but rarely will a true repair happen if the recipient doesn’t feel the intention and remorse.
So for example:
Stella, I’m really sorry for not telling you about this meeting I need to attend and adding to your already busy plate. I’m going to make sure to add these to your calendar going forward.
Try it out yourself the next time the opportunity presents itself and notice the change in energy.
Just the other day my daughter was upset that we had said we would put up wallpaper in her room two months ago, and still hadn’t. Instead of pushing back, my husband apologized for taking longer than he’d said he would and committed to getting it done by the end of the month.
We were gearing up for some complaining, but instead… she relaxed. The moment passed. We all moved on.
The importance of atonement
Now that we’re in September, we’re approaching Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar. At its core, it’s a holiday about apologies.
To focus the holiest day on making amends is saying something. And the reason for this is that, in Jewish thought, repairing relationships - with other people and with God – is of the utmost importance. The practice of atonement is called “teshuvah,” which means “return:” you’re supposed to return to your best self and to living with the right values. And it’s only possible by acknowledging where you’ve gone off-course and making amends to those you’ve hurt.
Whether or not you observe Yom Kippur, there’s something universal about the idea that unresolved rifts weigh us down. Leaving things to the healing powers of time instead of to repair is better than nothing but creates scar tissue that leaves a relationship a little less authentic, a little less pure.
No matter your religion, with the summer closing this is as good a time as any to take stock and see if you have outstanding “blockages.” Apologizing allows each of us to reset by realigning with our values and remembering that personal growth is always possible.
Ask yourself
What rifts do you have that are currently “unhealed?”
What different approaches do you take when you apologize?
How would you like to reset and realign as we enter this new season?