Apologies by Leaders

"I am sorry for what I did. Can we make up now? "

You are forgiven. Both parties are back on good terms. Life goes on.

This scenario might seem a very common one and you hardly ever think twice before apologising for your mistakes. For that is obviously the way go.

But once you are put in a position of power, this simple apology becomes all the more difficult. You represent your organisation or team and every word you utter is going to be very decisive of how people judge you and your whole group. Refusal to own up for one's faults as a leader might portray a very stubborn nature but it might also show you as a person of strong character. On the other hand, readily apologising for eveyr fault might be seen as a sign of weakness. Sometimes a well-delivered apology can augur years of trust for your organisation and generate lots of goodwill. Again, on the other hand, if your apology comes across as carefully crafted ploy to earn sympathy then you and your organisation may fall flat, backside up.

Where do you strike a balance? How best to deliver a "good" apology? More importantly, when and when not to give one? These are crucial questions that could prove the difference between a good leader and a great one.

All of us remember the Lewinsky scandal that rocked the White House. After a lot of public outrage, Bill Clinton finally offered a public apology - a televised one. He heartfully pleaded for forgiveness from the American public as well as his own wife and daughter. This was the single most important part of the whole process of how Clinton was finally forgiven by most people. A very good example of how an apology should be offered.

On the other hand, Mr. Douglas Ivester, CEO of Coca Cola in the late 1990s, avoided the whole outrage in Europe against health problems caused by consumption of Coke. And finally when he did agree to look into the matter, he apologised profusely. He gave all kind of excuses for why the problems might be caused. He was all over in the news. To everyone's surprise, it was later discovered that Coke was in no way responsible for any of the heatlh problems caused in Europe. Ivester immediately resigned for having brought Coca Cola to disrepute.

As we can aplogies by leaders need to be well-timed, carefully worded and should be honest in their feel. Kellerman suggests that a good apology should constitute the following

1) acknowledging the mistake
2) accepting responsibility
3) expressing regret, and
4) promising that the mistake will not be repeated

When all these things are kept mind while offering an apology and when it is done at the appropriate time then the masses will be more than ready to accept and forgive the mistakes of the leader and his organisation.

A great concluding example would be James Burke of Johnson and Johnson's. In a similar case as Coca Cola, J&J's Tylenol capsules were accused of causing deaths, Burke immediately assumes responsibility and ordered people to return all capsules in return for coupons. Production and advertising was halted and all capsules in stores were recalled. He even came on television to say

“Don’t risk it. Take the voucher so that when this crisis is
over we can give you a product we both know is safe.”

Ultimately research showed no link between the deaths and Tylenol. Johnson and Johnson's had won the faith and love of the people. Apologies are always vital for setting things right, but the art lies in offering them at the RIGHT time and in the RIGHT manner.

Fuehrer

Reference - Works of Barbara Kellerman, John F Kennedy School of Government, Harvard

"Loser" - a short story

“Clear your desk by six this evening. I have had enough of you and your timid sales acumen”, blasted Mr.Taylor right onto my face.

Countless droplets of spit graced my face after what seemed like a century-long discussion. Not so much a discussion, but more of a one-way shouting while I stood still to bear the storm of Mr. Taylor’s heavy words and endless spitting. I had of course tried my best to squeeze in a few words of apology and a dedication to perform better the next time but, as I said, it was almost entirely one-way. I was hardly given a chance to utter more than three words at a time.

I silently walked past my colleagues to my desk. Jeremi had that Oh-I-emphatise-with-you look and followed me to my desk. I knew in my heart of hearts that his was more of an adding-salt-to-the-wound gesture than genuine concern. Stella, who was busy knitting under her table, looked up, gave a cursory glance and then returned back to her “work”. Others in the office did not even bother a glance.

As I sat at my desk, I noticed a strange stillness in things around me. Somehow the wall-calendar that usually beats around restlessly when the ceiling fan is in full swing, was surprisingly quiet today. I thought it emphatised with me. But to my disappointment it felt more like the calendar was staring back at me. Things always seem to have a tendency of staring back at me. It is always as if I am inferior to people and things around me and they all reserve the right to stare back and demean me.

You could say I am the perennial “loser” in life.

Always managed the grades, but never the respect of peers and teachers around me.

Never mustered the strength to ask a girl out – which according to the boys in high school and college was a big “loser” thingy (whatever that means…probably a feminine version of a thing, purposely used to add insult to what is already inherent in being a “loser”).

Always scared to break the rules and break out of the mould.

Always part of a hunk-gang but almost always an understudy and a have-been rather than genuinely belonging to the group.

Today, a dumped salesperson whose services the leading cosmetics company of the nation no longer requires. Mr.Taylor described my sales tactics as very conservationist and lacking adventure, in short, the ‘loser” types who doesn’t dare to do things and go places.

I stormed out of the office at half past five, a good half an hour before the deadline set by Taylor. The lift was under maintenance. I kicked it twice to vent my frustration on an already terrible day and dragged myself down the stairs.

As I was rushing to my car a young man in army fatigues and on crutches approached me for money. A young beggar was always a sad sight. He started narrating his Kargil heroics and how he lost his leg and how he needed money to apply for some jobs. I could care less about his story but dumped a hundred rupee bill into his hand just to get him through his immediate needs. Some high point personally for me after a hard long day.

It has been eleven years since that fateful day.

Life has not changed much for me over the years. Parents left for their heavenly abode after trying their very best to get me married. But girls just could not see beyond the “loser” in me who would most definitely, according to them, fail to bring them security and love. Have hardly earned any respect from peers and employees all these years. The tendency to stick by the rules and never to venture out has proven my biggest obstacle to breaking out of the “loser” tag.

Life ahead also seems exactly a mirror image of what has been. I seem destined to die a loser.

But only yesterday something happened that promises to change me like none other.

I was surfing through the channels late last night and the cable connection got cut off. So I was forced to take a look at the national Doordarshan channel.

An IAS officer who was recently appointed to the External Affairs ministry was giving an interview. His was a perfect rags-to-riches story- how one man’s little help had changed the future of this officer. In the words of that officer, it was this man whose help was solely responsible for his present success and it was this man who was a “true winner” in this world.

The officer was young and well built, with a very ‘army’ look to him and looked strangely familiar. My mouth dropped in astonishment, but more with content, when I noticed the officer was on crutches as well.

I realised I might just die a winner, for a change.

- by Fuehrer

Waves

Waves

The sand lay lazy, tickled by feet many
The waves threatened once, twice, one too many.
Mirth and careless innocence danced around
And there she was…ever so beautifully on the ground.

She loved the water; not so much to get drenched
And romanced the brightness; not so much to leave the rock’s shadow
A smile adorning her face ever so lightly
May be she dreamt of a world of angels, or a pristine meadow.

I discovered her then. Or did I?
All by herself and yet so complete. On the sand dry.
Neither apprehension, nor anonymity.
As if we were long lost friends from the city.

Of family and friends and places we talked
And volumes of past in a nutshell wrapped.
There was something in the air that augured a bond
Discover each other we did, but ever so silently.

And then we met, and met again
In company we lost touch of the world.
As the sand dropped down the other half,
I realized we were the same soul.

It felt like heaven, if ever there was one
The beauty magnified of everything around.
So sweetly unaware of the ebbs and flows
Thinking waves would keep kissing our feet as gently as ever.

Night lost its relevance, so did the day.
But the clouds had gathered.
Storms were brewing, much to our innocent nonchalance
No idea how it would leave us battered.

Would we survive it? Was I strong?
And of all, Why so soon?
But Lady-Fate scripts its own story
Of me and her, she could care less.

Moist eyes and forced out grins
Made life a woeful liability more than god’s gift.
Retrospection…and more of it
Showed some light; faint, but there.

Accepting one is human makes life so simple
So crystal clear, painless, fun and strong.
Oh Love, pardon us for moving away from you.
We always knew you were there. We were weak, we were wrong.

The sun winked his way out of the clouds, cautious yet sturdy.
There was brightness again, and the same mirth in the air.
Made me realize that when hearts are one
Lives can be lived, beating tempests of despair.

The sand still lays lazy, awaiting the tickle of our feet.
While waves, shyly yet with menace, caress yet pound the shore.
Drawing in pebbles and dirt, in brightness and dark,
For life is about taking in, giving back…ever so patiently…ever so strongly.

- Fuehrer