closing did three things to soften the apology.
First, Brown qualified his apology with the word “want.” This is particularly noticeable after he spent so much time being very direct with his language up to that point.
Second, he stopped talking to the viewer and started talking to an auditorium. It’s easy to feel Brown forgot he was speaking to a person watching a video.
Third, he redirected attention from his apology to the original misbehaviour of a now-former employee. He dialed us back to the problem and sent us on our way with the original issue in mind rather than his apology.
Imagine the same video. However, rather than closing with “I want to apologize to all of our customers for the actions of this individual,” consider if Brown ended with “This unfortunate event does not represent the good work of our committed workforce. I am very sorry. And, thank YOU, for taking the time to listen to me.”
Which version are you more likely to remember if the apology video came up in conversation at a later time?
Words Need Backing by Actions
We recall the textbook example of an apology from British Petroleum (BP) CEO Tony Hayward. Hayward began his company’s apology campaign on June 2, 2010, in the wake of the Deepwater Horizon disaster in the Gulf of Mexico. The reception of his apology was simultaneously both expected and unfortunate for BP and Hayward because without the historical context, the apology is almost perfect in every other way.
Before we examine the strengths of Hayward’s apology, let us present three exhibits offered by Hayward himself that make clear why his apology failed to connect with the public.
Hayward was quoted as saying on May 14, 2010, “The Gulf of Mexico is a very big ocean. The amount of volume of oil and dispersant we are putting into it is tiny in relation to the total water volume.”
When asked if he was sleeping at night despite the unfolding, cascading crisis of the Deepwater Horizon, Forbes magazine reported on May 18, 2010, that Hayward responded, “Yeah, of course I am.”
Hayward’s May 30, 2010 attempt at an apology was clearly more self-serving than sincere when he said, “We’re sorry for the massive disruption it’s caused their lives. There’s no one who wants this over more than I do. I would like my life back.”
It seemed that every time Hayward had opened his mouth to this point, he gave his critics — even his supporters — good reason to shudder. Much of the disbelief played out online, including on the comical parody Twitter account @BPGlobalPR.
By the time Hayward issued what appeared to be that earnest June apology, any sincerity on his part was largely rejected by the public. If not for the mishandling of the oil leak by BP and Hayward’s perceived absence of communication charisma, the following would have made his apology welcome and appreciated.
The first thirty-three seconds of his video apology deals with the spill and a summary of what BP had done productively to that point. There are many who would argue with the claims Hayward made, except to note that he does open the video with the statement “The Gulf spill is a tragedy that never should have happened.” It’s attention-getting because it acknowledges what everyone was already thinking and saying, even if some will feel there was a calculated decision by Hayward to leave out mention of BP in that statement.
The strength of the apology kicks in around the thirty-four second mark.
“To those affected and your families, I’m deeply sorry.… To all the volunteers, and for the strong support of the government, thank you.”
Notice Hayward delivers a clear and inclusive “I’m deeply sorry.” By saying “To those affected and your families,” Hayward leaves the apology open for everyone who lives on the Gulf and, arguably, everyone who is affected by the Gulf oil spill.
He also gives an unqualified thank-you to those who volunteered with the cleanup effort and to the U.S. government. He doesn’t “want” to thank these people. He thanks them. Full stop.
In the end, actions speak louder than words, and communication failures trump successes. Hayward misplayed his hand and that of BP. The online masses made that known.
Robots and Leadership
Guy Hoffman tells a fascinating story about how he came to design and build “robots with soul.” His story begins with being inspired by Pixar’s animated short film Luxo Jr. You may have seen it. Luxo Jr. was meant to showcase some amazing advancements in computer-generated imagery. However, like all Pixar projects, the magic is in the human-relatable story. Technology, as amazing as it is, serves as a mere backdrop to this story.
Hoffman wanted to make it possible for people to have the same kind of real life interactions with lamps as were presented in Luxo Jr. — the ability to share a knowing look, to play and work together. He did. And he’s done much more than that. His robotic creations use technology to mimic moments of emotional connection. He builds personality into his robots, giving them the ability to groove to music in human-familiar ways and participate in free-form music collaboration, including predicting music structure and connecting with other participants in the performance.
What’s most remarkable is how people respond during their interactions with Hoffman’s robots. His efforts considered two types of robotic brains. He refers to one as the “calculated brain.” It functions with a very programmatic and calculated robotic response. The other, he calls the “adventurous brain.” It functions more like an improvisational actor who is willing to take risks and interact with the surroundings — willing to make mistakes and correct them.
In his TEDxJaffa talk, Hoffman explains that he invited people to participate in an experiment with the robots.
“I had them do this very tedious task. It took almost twenty minutes and they had to work together, somehow simulating, like, a factory job of repetitively doing the same thing.”
It turns out people preferred working with the adventurous robot. They felt it “was more intelligent, more committed, a better member of the team, contributed to the success of the team. They even called it ‘he’ and ‘she,’ whereas people with the calculated brain [robot] called it ‘it.’”
In another video clip, Hoffman shows an interaction between the adventurous-brained robot and a rapper. In the clip, the robot is bopping alongside the rapper while the rapper is focused on his iPhone, reading lyrics. A few moments later, the robot turns to look at the rapper. The rapper instinctively turns to look at the robot and adds a skip beat to his rap. It’s all part of normal performance conduct, yet with a robot that is apparently invested in the experience.
We’re sharing this story not to advocate that leaders (or anyone, really) be replaced by personality-infused robots. The key takeaway here is that people preferred working with a robot that seemed more human, that exhibited a personality. People actually felt as though they had formed a partnership with the adventurous-brained robot. Meanwhile, the calculated-brain robot was described as “a lazy apprentice” that did only what it was supposed to do “and nothing more.”
The question is, which type of robot leader are you? Calculated brain? Or adventure brain? Guess which one is TOUCH.
On the Horizon
Social Business Is No Longer
