The Power of a Quick “Sorry”

How Owning Mistakes Defuses Tension in Life and Leadership

On my way to the office this morning, while travelling along the motorway at some speed, a light truck suddenly drifted across into my lane, causing me to hit the brakes. It wasn’t aggressive driving and his indicator was on but, I presume, he just hadn’t seen me.

As I hit the brakes, I instinctively thumped the horn and braced for the reaction we’ve all come to expect in those situations. A shrug, some dangerous brake tapping or even the universally recognised single digit signal for, whatever mate.

Instead, the driver immediately wound down his window, reached out his arm with obvious intent, and gave me a quick wave. It wasn't an angry wave though, it was clearly apologetic and seemingly saying, sorry mate, that was my mistake.

The gesture caught me off guard. In an instant there was nothing left to be angry about, and the irritation that’d flared up seconds earlier dissipated as quickly as it had arrived.

As I continued driving, I pondered why such a small interaction had felt so significant. The mistake had happened, yet a simple acknowledgement of responsibility had completely changed my response to it.

We all make mistakes; it’s human. We forget to return a call, miss a deadline, or make a poor decision that affects our team. However, the mistake itself is often not the cause of the greatest damage; rather, the actual damage comes from what happens next.

Most of us instinctively protect ourselves when we realise we’ve got something wrong. We explain the circumstances, point to the pressures we were under, or focus on our intentions rather than the outcome. Nobody enjoys being wrong. But in leadership roles, we see countless examples of how differently people respond to their own mistakes. While one leader explains why it wasn’t their fault another says, “I got that wrong. Here’s what I’ll do differently next time.” The latter diffuses problems, while the former fuels conflict.

Most people don’t expect leaders to get everything right. What they want to know is whether someone can recognise an error, own it, and move forward. Accountability, particularly when shown rapidly, builds credibility far more effectively than defensiveness ever does.

The same principles operate in our personal lives. People can usually forgive a forgotten birthday, or an insensitive comment. What often causes the lasting damage is the refusal to acknowledge and own those oversights.

I’ve certainly been guilty of this myself. There have been times when I knew I should apologise but wanted the other person to understand my intentions first. I wanted them to know I had meant no harm, as though good intent somehow erased poor impact. Of course, it doesn’t work that way. You can mean well and still get it wrong. Acknowledging the impact of our actions doesn’t diminish us; it shows maturity.

So why do so many of us struggle to apologise quickly? Pride and fear are commonly the drivers. We worry that admitting fault will make us look weak, incompetent, or foolish. We see apologising as losing when, in reality, a genuine apology is simply an acknowledgement of reality. More accurately and in its simplest form, it’s honesty. And honesty has a remarkable ability to defuse tension before it has the chance to grow. The longer we avoid apologising, the more complicated things become.

By the time I arrived at work, the near miss had already faded. What stayed with me was the wave.

That driver will probably never know it, but his moment of humility changed the tone of my morning. What could have become another frustrating commute became a quiet reminder of the person I want to be when I get something wrong.

Not a bad outcome from a near miss on the motorway.