The Political Benefits of “I’m Sorry”

Rosh Hashana is right around the corner. To prepare for the High Holidays, devout and devoted Jews are now saying “Slikhot” (Repentance) to clear their personal slate and hopefully start the new year with a clean conscience leading to better behavior.

Although the original purpose is between wo/man and God, no less useful would be a similar mindset regarding leaders and the public. Indeed, research shows that politicians admitting their occasional mistake (whether personal or policy) actually improves their standing with the citizenry! Unfortunately, Israel’s present leaders (especially Prime Minister Netanyahu) either aren’t aware of such mea culpa benefits or are psychologically incapable of publicly admitting to human error.

As a general rule, elected leaders are clearly not intellectually inferior. Rather, the problem lies in the job they have undertaken. Within the complex arena of governance, politicians must make decisions in situations of great uncertainty, not to mention the huge pressure of countervailing political forces. Given such complexity, some decisions will naturally result in unforeseen, negative consequences. When that happens, should they admit fault and publicly apologize? The answer is a resounding yes, based not only on moral responsibility but also (and for many politicians, especially) personal advantage.

From an ethical-moral standpoint, democratic governance entails accountability. Politicians are entrusted by the public to make decisions that affect individual lives and entire countries’ welfare. When a policy fails, the public expects their leaders to recognize and admit the mistake. An unequivocal apology (notice the “vocal” in that word) acknowledges that they too are fallible.

But won’t that erode trust in their judgment? Quite the opposite. When leaders refuse to admit mistakes, they undermine their own credibility because the public is then less likely to accept future decisions when they perceive their leaders as indifferent to their actions’ consequences, or worse – that they’re incapable of self-reflection. Therefore, a well-timed and genuine apology will humanize powerful leaders, repositioning them as public servants with empathy and self-awareness rather than being unaccountably aloof.

As paradoxical as this might sound, a public apology is not a sign of weakness but rather of strength. Admitting to a mistake displays confidence in the leader’s own integrity, not to mention intellectual honesty and political resilience. Indeed, such an act of contrition enables political figures to reset their relationship with the public, demonstrating responsiveness to criticism and openness to change – and that leads to greater trust among constituents: former supporters and even some who voted for opposing candidates. In short, voters are more understanding and forgiving when a leader takes responsibility instead of deflecting blame.

Nor is this only a matter of the relationship between governor and the governed. The impact also extends to all public servants within the government’s bureaucracy, signaling to subordinates within the Administration that they can speak up beforehand about potential downsides of the leader’s policy because s/he will listen carefully to such advice.

Sound familiar? Last week’s Doha attack debacle on Hamas leaders is the most recent case in point. According to trustworthy (and widespread) reports, PM Netanyahu decided to go ahead with the attack despite the warnings of most of his national security leadership. Thereafter, he has not made any public apology (quite the opposite: it was “successful” because it “sent a message”), despite seriously angering Israel’s Abraham Accords neighbors, not to mention European countries and much of the rest of the world. But then again, what can one expect from a prime minister who even refuses to allow an official Commission of Inquiry regarding the October 7th disaster?

Compare this to a similar situation over sixty years ago. When U.S. President John F. Kennedy took public responsibility for the failed Bay of Pigs invasion in Cuba, his approval ratings actually rose (!), despite the disaster. In contrast, ten years later President Nixon tried to obfuscate and deny responsibility for the Watergate break-in, irreparably damaging his reputation and ultimately cutting short his presidency.

To be sure, not every apology is effective. It depends on timing (as soon as possible), its tone (sincere), and the content (full disclosure with no “ifs, ands, or buts”). A perfunctory or conditional apology can have the opposite effect: inflaming an already angry public.

In sum, the need for politicians to occasionally say “I’m sorry” when they make a serious policy error is a moral duty and even a strategic asset. Failing to do so is usually counterproductive in the long term because it makes (and fakes) the leader into thinking that s/he is infallible – thereby creating more mistakes, as no one in the vicinity is willing to show the emperor ahead of time that their proposed policy has no clothes.

Today, when cynicism and polarization threaten democratic institutions, admitting fault is not a weakness but an all-too-rare, necessary strength – one that Israel’s present prime minister sorely lacks. This is the time for Bibi to do some “slikhot” – for his own good, and especially for the benefit of the country.