For some leaders, refusing to apologize is a sign of strength. Apologies are often seen as a weakness or as proof that a leader has lost control of the narrative. The louder the criticism, the more they resist saying “I’m sorry.”
Recent events show how flawed this mindset is. After Donald Trump shared – and later deleted – a video showing a blatantly racist clip of Barack and Michelle Obama, criticism came quickly from across the political spectrum.
But what prolonged the controversy wasn’t the post itself; it was the response. When confronted, Trump stated flatly, “I didn’t make a mistake.”
That statement perfectly illustrates why so many public apologies fail before they even start. What’s notable, however, is that this refusal to accept responsibility is no longer just personal; it has become institutionalized. Trump operates a communications apparatus designed to quickly and aggressively deflect blame or dismiss it as media distortion.
Karoline Leavitt gave a clear example when she scolded the news media, saying, “Please stop the fake outrage and report on something today that actually matters to the American public.” In such an environment, offering an apology isn’t merely discouraged; it is fundamentally incompatible with the messaging strategy.
A helpful way to think about apologies comes from an unlikely source: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. In communication, especially with issues and crisis management, we constantly question whether a response is too much, too little, or just right. Apologies are no different. Does the situation call for one? And if so, will it land as too weak, overly apologetic, or just enough?
The problem isn’t that we apologize too often. It’s that we apologize poorly – or avoid it altogether.
As the importance of apologies has grown, so has the demand for them. But not because society has become more sensitive or civil. Increasingly, apologies are used as leverage – a way to put someone on the defensive. Perceive a slight? Demand an apology. In today’s world, it’s easy to see why leaders become defensive and why a blanket “never apologize” stance can seem appealing. Mitt Romney embraced that stance right in the title of his book, No Apology: The Case for American Greatness. There’s an argument that we’re entitled to this because of all the good the country has done in the world. But a history of good deeds, whether personal, corporate, or national, doesn’t shield anyone from responsibility when serious mistakes occur. Banking goodwill may buy some benefit of the doubt, but it doesn’t excuse causing harm.
After years of studying political, corporate, and personal apologies, I’ve realized it’s partly a discipline rather than a reflex – something that can be learned, refined, and measured. That realization led me to create what I call the 6 A’s of Apology:
- Acknowledging that something has happened
- Authentic expression of regret
- Appropriate tone and language
- Acceptable location, determining who and how many receive the message
- Acting within the right timeframe
- Announcing next steps
No apology can begin without acknowledgment. When a leader says, “I didn’t make a mistake,” the process ends before it starts. No acknowledgment, no acceptance, no empathy, and no repair. What may feel like defiance to the speaker often registers as indifference to the audience.
Bad apologies generate headlines of their own and can cause real harm. Actions that should help heal can instead deepen wounds. Silence, defensiveness, or half-hearted apologies often do more damage than saying nothing at all. A slow, insensitive response can overshadow good intentions and magnify the fallout.
Good apologies, however, can defuse tense situations and reduce media attention. They tend to shorten controversies rather than prolong them. They reaffirm shared values rather than challenge them.
This is where so-called “tough guys” often go wrong. They confuse apology with submission and assume that admitting fault means losing power. In reality, refusing to apologize often signals insecurity – fear that acknowledging error will shatter a carefully constructed image of dominance. When that fear is reinforced by an institutional communication strategy built around denial, it predictably fuels escalation rather than projecting strength.
Leadership isn’t about never being wrong. It’s about how you respond when you are, since responses determine both the extent of the damage and how long it lasts. How you say “I’m sorry” might matter more than the original mistake.
A sincere apology doesn’t weaken a leader. It demonstrates confidence, emotional intelligence, and moral clarity. The real weakness isn’t in apologizing; it’s in the inability – or unwillingness – to accept responsibility when it’s necessary.
