Could any apology be equal to the multitude of lies, ruthless attacks, personal betrayals, and abuse of power that Oprah Winfrey laid on Lance Armstrong’s doorstep during Part I of her rambling interview with the disgraced cycling champ? Maybe, but based on the first part of the interview, Armstrong’s apology didn’t even come close.  For the most part, what Armstrong offered Thursday night was a more or less contrite explanation of his difficulties than a heartfelt public apology. He displayed some self-awareness, expressed considerable regret, and agreed that he acted like a bully, but Armstrong used specific remorse language only once. “I am sitting here to acknowledge [my faults] and to say I’m sorry,” he said. At least in part I, that’s the only time I heard Armstrong use the word “sorry.”  I’ll leave it to others to judge Armstrong’s motives for confessing or his sincerity. Personally, I don’t think it’s useful to speculate on an offender’s sincerity or motives. No one can look into another person’s soul. The quality of the apology is what matters. You can’t pretend to apologize, any more than you can pretend to be a waiter. Either the meal gets delivered or it doesn’t.  In apology terms, what got delivered was a light appetizer. The meal has yet to be prepared. Maybe it will show up in Part II of the interview, but I doubt it.  Armstrong continues to be too much in control of the narrative. More than once in the interview Armstrong indicated that his hyper-competitiveness fueled his toxic need to control every outcome. That control was much in display throughout the confession. At one point, Oprah mentioned Betsy Andreu, one of the honest critics that Armstrong smeared. Armstrong acknowledged that he called her a bitch and crazy, but disputed that he ever called her fat. Such defensiveness undermines the whole apology.  An effective apology means giving up your argument with history. It means letting the victims have the last word. But throughout the interview, Armstrong displayed a constant need to have the last word for himself. It’s clear that he is not quite ready to do the heavy lifting of apology.  The most effective apologies address five dimensions I call the Five Rs of Apology. Let’s see how Part I of Armstrong’s apology rates on my five-point scale. I’ll assign a letter grade for each point and then calculate a final grade.  Recognition requires that the offender articulate in a specific way the offenses for which he or she is apologizing. “I’m sorry for my mistakes” or the pathetic “mistakes were made” won’t do. A quality apology is very specific. Armstrong’s apology is only sporadically specific. He admits that he is an arrogant bully. He acknowledges that he has hurt innocent people by name and that deserves all the animosity that he has created. He accepts that he has been a poor role model. But for the most part, his offenses are unspecified. For recognizing and naming his behavior, Armstrong’s apology earns a B.  Responsibility calls for the offender to accept unalloyed responsibility for the offenses. This is the part where most apologies fail because it’s so easy for defensiveness to creep in. Armstrong falls into this trap. “I didn’t invent the culture [of doping], but I didn’t try to stop the culture,” he tells Oprah. That kind of distancing of responsibility appears throughout the confession. Elsewhere, however, he acknowledges that “all the fault falls on me.” For accepting responsibility for his offenses, Armstrong’s apology earns a C.  Remorse is the part of the apology where the offender actually uses the words “I apologize” or “I’m sorry.” A statement without the use of one or both of these phrases is not an apology. Given all his offenses and the number of victims, I would have expected that the words would appear in virtually every other sentence. That he said it only once is damning. Armstrong hinted at his remorse but victims can’t heal with hints. They need to hear the actual words of apology. For his failure to express full-throated remorse, Armstrong’s apology gets a D.  Restitution is the most difficult part of most apologies. This is the part where the offender answers the question, how am I to be held accountable? Offenders cannot talk their way out of difficulties they acted their way into. An effective apology requires Armstrong to identify concrete steps he will take to reverse some of the damage he has inflicted. He indicated he is ready to cooperate with sports authorities. That’s a start. But I was looking for what he specifically intends to do to atone for his behavior to all the former teammates and friends he has betrayed. Maybe some of this will be in Part II, but from what I heard, on the measure of restitution, Armstrong’s apology gets a D.  Repetition, the last step, calls for the apologizer to reassure victims that he will not repeat the offending behavior. Nowhere in the interview did Armstrong specifically promise that he will no longer take illegal performance enhancing drugs or abuse people who get in his way. I fault Oprah for not pinning Armstrong down on this point, but the grade doesn’t change. On the dimension of promising not to repeat the offending behavior, Armstrong’s apology is silent so he gets an F.  While we calculate Armstrong’s final grade for Part I of his apology, it is useful to notice that the essential quality of an effective apology is vulnerability—precisely the quality that Armstrong has in least abundance. Apology, at its most empathic level, requires Armstrong to acknowledge not only that his victims have reason to conclude that he is a bully, but that on a real level he agrees with them. He has acknowledged the first part, but until he can acknowledge the second, his apology will never be truly satisfying.  It’s only then, by acknowledging, naming, and ultimately accepting his mistakes, can Armstrong embrace his humility and make room for his true self, imperfect and all too human, just like everyone else, to emerge. When that happens—when an effective apology has been offered and accepted—all the parties get to move forward, although not necessarily together.  To conclude, the first part of Armstrong’s apology gets no more than a D+, which is about the same grade that Oprah earns for her curiously passive and unfocused interviewing performance. But that’s another story that may well produce an apology of its own.  John Kador is the author of “Effective Apology: Mending Fences, Building Bridges, and Restoring Trust” and other business books.
Did Lance Armstrong begin to atone for his misdeeds during part I of Oprah Winfrey's interview with the disgraced cyclist? An expert in corporate apologies analyzes what Armstrong had to say--and hands out some tough grades.