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I’m not big on apologies in my professional life. Mainly, because I’ve learned that nothing good ever comes of them. This tried-and-true life experience is compounded by the issue of having lady parts. I don’t want to make any broad, sweeping generalizations here (hint: I’m going to anyway), but I think those of us with lady parts apologize too much, and it’s not a good look. So, I have worked long and hard to eradicate this word from my knee-jerk reaction list (which includes such gems as, “Why in the hell would you do that,” “It’s your funeral,” and my patented look of equal parts of horror and disgust).
For me, an apology boils down to a formal admission of wrongdoing. I don’t know about you, but when it comes to my business partners, there’s about a zero chance I’m going to open myself up to that. Like dogs, bees, and toddlers, business partners can smell weakness, and who in the hell has time for that? I waste enough oxygen and brain cells justifying to business partners why we should do something when I’m in the right. That leaves me no time to grovel when I’m in the wrong.
The same goes for the word “sorry.” Because we lawyer types are word nerds, I’m in the camp that thinks there’s a subtle different between an apology and a sorry. Sorry implies an additional requirement of regret and remorse, and, frankly, I have even less time for that. Yes, I may have effed up, but I like to take the comparative negligence approach. If I’ve effed up, chances are that the business partner has effed up even more. Do you really think the sales rep is going to say he’s sorry for leaving out half the conversation he had with a vendor and making you look like a baboon’s ass in front of their counsel? I think not.
So I avoid apologies and sorry like the plague. Nor do I ever expect them from business partners because, again, that would imply some realization of wrongdoing or remorse. And there’s nothing quite like a half-assed apology that someone offers when they need something from you. “Kay, I’m so sorry I sat on this request for a month, but I really do need that merger agreement in four hours.” See? It’s like being punched in the intellect and the stomach at the same time.
But far worse than a half-assed apology, is a forced one.
We have this shiny, new sales SVP and like most of our sales SVP, this guy looks and sounds like he just got his learner’s permit. He’s been brought in to “shake things up.” Read: break the current system without any analysis as to what is working well. I give Thom about nine months before he’s out for failing to shake things up.
In the meantime, Thom has posted these larger-than-life, Technicolor canvas boards all over his team’s walls with such inspirational offerings as, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take,” and “Great things never come from idling in your comfort zone.” My personal favorite (the one over by the restroom) is “DREAM BIGGER.” I’m just saying that I probably wouldn’t have posted this one over by the men’s restroom. Snicker.
Well, I’m sorry to report that despite all these snazzy signs designed to inspire his team, I got into an epic showdown with one of Thom’s direct reports. I’m not going into the gory details, but let’s just say it involved changing a significant amount of language in a settlement agreement after it was approved by Legal. Let’s just say those changes were caught after the document was signed by the vendor but before we inked it, and a shitstorm ensued. The immediate result was me spending my Friday night and weekend renegotiating with a righteously (and rightfully) pissed vendor’s counsel. This resulted in me being righteously (and rightfully) pissed at Thom’s direct report for ruining my weekend because he decided that being a sneaky ass waffle was the way to go, rather than find an adult when the deal went south.
The following Monday morning, I was treated to a meeting in which the offending business partner was forced to apologize to me in front of Thom. Absent from the proceedings was an admission of wrongdoing or sense of remorse. Not only that, the ass waffle in question couldn’t make eye contact with me, and I got the distinct impression that it wasn’t remorse, but general pissiness, that was preventing him from looking me in the eyes. The lowlight (there were no highlights) was Thom wasting twenty minutes of my life explaining what it’s so important to take ownership of one’s mistakes and learn from them. I’m just going to say that I have lived through some awkward shit in my career (including having to coach a Midwestern-born VP that he couldn’t refer to his female employees as “gals” no matter how highly he regarded them), but this was up there.
Unsurprisingly, this didn’t fix anything. If anything, Thom’s direct report has been more of an ass waffle than before. He now starts every call and meeting with, “Kay, am I allowed to do the following, I wanted to check first, it’s not like I have ten years of experience in this field or anything …” in the snottiest tone imaginable. As if I’m the one who made this guy apologize or who tried to sneak one by his boss with a bogus settlement agreement. Nope, nope, nope. I’m just the poor sucker who spent her weekend fixing the mistake and her Monday morning listening to an SVP who clearly wanted to be one of those college basketball coaches making impassioned speeches to his team on the sidelines.
This experience, while mortifying, did give me a great outlet for my creativity. If you do happen to find yourself by the men’s restroom on the second floor of our building, you’ll find a new sign. It’s not as fancy as Thom’s airbrushed ones, but I think my, “SORRY IS NOT ENOUGH, SOMETIMES, YOU ACTUALLY HAVE TO CHANGE” sign gets the job done.
Kay Thrace (not her real name) is a harried in-house counsel at a well-known company that everyone loves to hate. When not scuffing dirt on the sacrosanct line between business and the law, Kay enjoys pub trivia domination and eradicating incorrect usage of the Oxford comma. You can contact her by email at KayThraceATL@gmail.com or follow her on Twitter @KayThrace.