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 (kids and grownups alike) 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 from threats like wild animals and foraging for food – and not for the modern social complexity we face today.
So now, even in 2025, our threat detection systems continue to light up at the possibility of humiliation, rejection, or loss of status. And, in fact, our amygdalas treat this social pain almost identically to physical pain. We’re wired to avoid both kinds of pain—so when it comes time to apologize, our instincts say, Dooon’t go there, and we avoid the uncomfortable feelings that our brains associate with saying sorry.
Overriding our threat responses: thoughts ≠ facts
Apologizing requires overriding that hardwired self-protection.
So when our brains start producing 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.” – Harris urges us to remember that thoughts are not facts.
As mentioned above, our brains are remarkable, but they don’t always hit the mark. And in their earnest desire to protect us from pain, they can overdo it: our brains can be too helpful, and they can 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 some of 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 giving your brain an incentive – as Charlie Munger said many times, “Show me the incentive and I'll show you the outcome.”
Remind yourself that ruptures are inevitable but that a meaningful repair can leave your relationship stronger than it started. Just think of customer service: some of the worst experiences can turn into the best ones when handled with care and speed.
Anatomy of a good apology
Tactically, there is no “right” way to apologize, but suffice it to say, “sorry” on its own usually doesn’t cut it. And please don’t say “I’m sorry you’re upset!”
A good apology acknowledges your role in it, takes ownership, and demonstrates effort and remorse. The sooner the better, but it’s never too late.
What does that look like? We like to hit these points:
SAY 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.” Start with their name, so that they’re primed to receive your message.
IT’S “SORRY FOR,” NOT JUST “SORRY” – take ownership for your behavior that contributed to the negative outcome, whether intended or not. Tip: if you’re using the passive voice, you’re probably missing the mark – it’s “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings,” not “I’m sorry your feelings were hurt.” Kids can handle this one too!
COMMIT TO ACTION – State how you’ll make things right or do better next time. (And of course, follow through.)
ACT LIKE YOU MEAN IT – Show your remorse if you can muster it. One thing we hear from clients at Graddha 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.
If done right, a good apology can totally change the energy in a room.
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 a complaining session, 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 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 your 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 active repair is better than nothing, but it creates scar tissue in the relationship. I certainly do my share of letting things “heal on their own,” but my strongest relationships are those where we’ve talked things through and “returned” to the foundations of our relationship.
Ask yourself
What ruptures from your own life came to mind as you were reading this article?
What’s your usual approach to saying you’re sorry?
How would you like to reset and realign as we enter this new season?
No matter your beliefs, this final quarter of the year is a natural time to take stock of where we may have drifted off course. Our caveman brains will continue to push back, but at least we’re now also armed with more knowledge: a sincere apology is never as dangerous as it feels, and almost always more powerful than we imagine.