Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

Coming out the cracks

Dr. Lundy Bancroft makes a clear point in the untransactionable nature of abuse, and the conditions for its resolution1. The entirety of Why does he do that? is written with the very explicit association of abuser with he and victim with she, and the author does not negotiate with the reader on making a change2. This is a statement on the type of stances we need to adopt in such dire circumstances.

In this context, there is an important topic when abuse occurs in interpersonal relationships—change. A necessary condition to talk about any sort of change resides in the ability of making amendments with the past, with the broken trust, with the victim—with the consequences of the actions. The perpetrator needs to own their actions, and restore the stolen harmony. Moreover, there is intransactionability in the amendment conditions: the abuser has no moral substance that allows him to cancel his debt to the victim.


Karl Popper, in 1945, raised alarms by providing an early formulation of what is known as the paradox of tolerance. This paradox deals with the juxtaposition of individual liberties in a social context, and it is greatly encompassed by the question should we tolerate the intolerant?

Even in a socio-political scenario, we can identify the bipartite nature of the paradox, where one group entitles themselves with the right to attack their opposers. Here the solution is not necessarily change: the second law of dialectics of Engel forbids this, as we are too small to fight the machine. Yet it can be on par with Gros’ mechanisms for the displacement of shame—reflection.


We will discuss the essential (yet simple, even basic) step that pertains to an apology. To simply put it in words, an apology consists in the recognition of an action triggered by the perpetrator, and the communication of a resolution to the affected entity.

Submission to the reality, submission to the gaze of others

At the beginning of this post, I cited a handful of the Twelve steps from Alcoholic Anonymous. Along a similar vein, Dr. Bancroft’s book states that change in an abuser requires: consequences, education, confrontation, and accountability3.

There is a preliminary step concerning apologies, which is the existence of a wrongdoing and an affected party. Without performing an action, without the existence of a risk, there is no reason to apologize: an event precedes the disruption, and the consequences of said disruption may require amendments. Without a sentient party, there is no judgment on the action itself. Someone suffers tangible consequences, and can be materialized. It is in this context where an apology can have its genesis—the action is punitive towards someone.

Note that an apology does not pertain and cannot correlate with intent. First, intent is expressed as an immaterial, and in particular, cannot be verified, presupposing trust. This idea—of intent being intangible—may not be interpreted equally by the offenders and the affected ones, and the individual experience of thoughts4 implies a further disconnection concerning an idea that needs to be processed by two different parties who must reach an agreement. Thus, this relegates intent to either a communication problem or an expectation problem, where the lack of contextualization can be seen as an item of the “induced Venn diagram”5 (as it may fit either category). Second, intent is not a matter of the apology, because apologies concern with what is material and what has been experienced. There is change due to one’s action, and that change can be addressed properly through an apology. Intent does not change reality, unless communicated, and thus rendering communication of a foul intent something deserving of an apology.

So, what does an apology care about if not with what is real? It concerns not only with what is material, but with that is experienced by others, the affected ones, the one bearing the burden of the experience of our actions. This brings back the discussion on shame: it is concrete, but the judgment is out of our reach. The preparing party is not the one on determining the matter resolved, as the punishable experience is experienced by the affected party. Thus, a valid apology requires yielding the right to settle the matter to the affected party.

And this is an interesting part about apologies: it starts where it (seems it) ends. One shall give up deciding when an apology is fulfilled.

Awareness

Once one yields the right to settle, and accepts that the final decision is out of our control, the focus turns to us: the question we seek to solve is what did I do that upset you?

There is no right answer: we know this for a fact, as my individuality is different from your individuality, and therefore, I will never have an understanding of reality itself from the same cosmovision, nor I will experience nature as you do. This sets a dilemma, as there might not be certainty nor preliminary agreement on what has been experienced in-between the perpetrator and the affected one.

Moreover, there is an additional layer that refers to the presumption of context inference, where the one at fault must seek understanding of his own actions from a broader perspective than the one involving their individuality. It is a presumption, because we shall not assume that every single individual has the ability to infer and “read the room”, and it is externalized onto the one who has hurt us.

Thus, awareness is required in order to craft a valid apology: the weight of our actions is not trivial, as we experience the actions in the same realm, yet we must know that the interpretation of such actions is based on each one of us, on our individualities.

I shall wear your shoes

Accepting the no-answer answer (when providing an apology) may tempt us to think that an apology is pointless: this is not the case, as it should be seen—in principle—as a selfless act that provides closure to the affected ones. (We will argue this point more carefully later.) Then in consequence we may receive the relief in our consciousness, but our goal is, in principle, postponed by the other’s need. Nevertheless, remember that our goal is not to deliver a subpar, underbaked apology, nor to provide a historical reconstruction of the events as if it was revealed to us in a dream by an omnipresent entity: our goal is to make the other, the one we hurt, seen.

It is through practicing empathy where we strengthen our ability to recognize the circumstances of others, and thus, we get glimpses of their reality by means of a devoted mental exercise, where we are not ourselves, but the other. It is then through empathy where we exercise a greater awareness, because we push our understanding beyond the individual, and we find in the material—in our faulty actions—a proxy and a channel towards the other’s individuality: we will never completely understand them as there is an ocean of trivialities and differences among us, yet we will get as close as we can, and we will make the effort to walk in their shoes.

Kierkegaardian resignation

In Fear and Trembling, Søren Kierkegaard establishes the difference between (infinite) resignation and faith. He also proposes what faith entails, being preceded by a Machiavellian-like6 teleological suspension of the ethical. I identify that an apology, at least, requires the absolute resignation, as upon the questioning of the hurting party we are relativizing their experience, and thus rendering invalid the legitimization of their feelings as their feelings constitute a reaction to the change we have perpetrated.

Moreover, the performance of an apology may engage in a teleological transgression of the ethical, in the sense that Kierkegaard proposes (as resignation), because we do not seek it as an apology for our own satisfaction—thus otherwise it is not an apology, but a mechanism to lift our ego. We have to surrender our individuality in the exercise to grasp the other, thus requiring surrendering our morals with the hope to enhance them. A transgression to our own individuality is therefore required, and as properly justified with a resolution aspiration, it requires the disregard of the self through vulnerability. In this vulnerability we may find the possibility of a suspension of an ethical that preaches self-preservation and individuality: in the cases where we find ourselves in this contention between the comfort and safety of the status quo and the need to apologize, those are the cases where there is a clear teleological intent, and thus a suspension of our individuality and of any mechanism that protects us.

It persists

In a similar vein to the paradox of tolerance, where there is a dispute about the tolerable—which may be gray and ambiguous—and thus there is a need to establish a threshold of what is tolerable and what is not, there is a dispute on what is a matter to apologize for and receive an apology for.

Here, as the act itself does not intend to be punitive, but restorative, it has been argued that the perpetrator yields their stance to satisfy the other party. As argued above, the goal is altruist and consists in giving closure to the affected party.

Nevertheless, with some apologies may come some conditions. As an apology is set and stated, there is a precedent over the understanding of the events in dispute. A straightforward expectation is on the irrepeatability of the events that lead us to this situation. There should be no recurrence in order to display compliance, obedience, or, more fundamentally, respect for the other’s experience.

When the actions are of a self-destructive nature, there is then a higher constraint, as the apology does not only come from the external to the individuality, but also from within ourselves. Again, in a very Kierkegaardian way, it becomes relevant to make a movement of infinite acceptation, which is in clear contrast to what resignation is. Some apologies must remain consistent over time, whereas (naturally) some of them have no more bindings and constraints from the world: in such cases, there is a resolution due to the change in the material, and therefore are no longer in need of being apologies, or may require a reevaluation of the reality—more awareness and mutual understanding is required.

Thus, an apology does persist, and it must persist. It persists over time because the intent is to not repeat an action. It must persist because intent is restorative, because we have no control over the outer interpretation of our actions. It must persist because an apology does serve other, and through others, we serve ourselves for our own improvement. We want to do better, because otherwise there is no reason to apologize for: there is no requirement but, paradoxically, to ourselves—the service we do ourselves comes after the service we do to who we apologize towards. In doing better, we serve a very Stoic principle of self-betterment, which per se presupposes a continuous development.

Bettermenting

It is quite not clear—as there is no manual for life—how to deal with the aftermath of an apology. It might be that everything that was expected to be restored is gone, it might feel futile and destructive. Yet, when we have done them wrong, we have seen it; when we understand our actions, we have done so with them in mind; when we perform the act, we open ourselves, and we become vulnerable, we surrender in an agreement with the one we wronged. Thus, what is left for us to do?

Upon the persistence of an apology, comes change and the compromise: there is no duty nor current entanglement with the other, as we have assimilated their reality to the best of our extent; yet, under agreement, there might be requirements to fulfill. In such a case, we must decide (with prudence and fairness) if we want to follow up with such a request. (Most of this discussion presupposes that the affected one is fair.)

But what if the other decides not to accept an apology as such? In no instant we stop exercising the ownership of the apology. We may choose to improve ourselves, and therefore, persevere in the apology: our vision has been enhanced, and our hearts have been changed, for us, we have wronged, and ourselves we have tried to amend. We resign then, and move on.

It goes with them, it stays with us

On the perseverance of an apology lies the crux of our change. Maybe we may fracture and shatter the reality, the individuality, and the drive of the other. We may have scarred them, leaving a trail of blood, tears, sorrow, and pain that not even ourselves, sinners, can make amends for it. Circumstances change us, and what is material stays material onwards: there is no reversibility in this physical world.

The major service we do to ourselves is to not repeat ourselves. To err is human—of course. Yet, do not accept that as an absolute: a repeated error is a neglect, as labeling the event as an error entails understanding of its nature. And a neglect cannot constitute part of how we are sovereign over ourselves.

All of this to conclude that a true apology stays with us because we change, and it stays with them because we put ourselves in debt to make ourselves better. If we do not pursue change and betterment, then there is no sustain in our words, and our words go away.

An apology goes with them, and it may be left in the past, yet it will stay with us as part of our growth.


What good is an apology if, when freed from judgment, we sin again? In keeping our promises, we change.


Footnotes

  1. That is, for when it is objectively sound to claim there is no more abusive dynamic in the relationship.

  2. This is not my favorite preference, but it makes the reading more polarized and challenging—in the sense of beliefs—by all means. The intransactional point of it should be clear to everyone.

  3. Here, we will focus on accountability, followed by confrontation and consequences. An abuser program focuses on education and confrontation.

  4. Assuming that consciousness and thought are a fully individual experience…

  5. Using the term “in the spectrum” would be more appropriate.

  6. Unfortunately, the Spanish definition of Machiavellian differs from the English one, as the RAE’s definition states the prevalence of the State’s will over any other moral expression. Thus, it should be interpreted along the lines of “the end justifies the means,” with the consideration that, in the Kierkegaardian sense, the end is good by grace of faith.