Justice Notes: The Apology

A White-Collar Journal forum for criminal justice, lived experience, and the personal search for redemption

I’ve been thinking about apologies. For those of us who’ve lived through the criminal justice system, apologies are fraught. Even when sincere, they can feel hollow to the listener, or worse, reopen wounds best left closed. This week’s Justice Notes reflects on the impossibility—and necessity—of apology as part of remorse and reentry.

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Justice Notes: Apologies

To the convicted felon, the cruelest accusation is a lack of remorse. It’s also the most difficult to defend—even for those who are genuinely remorseful. I’ve been told that I’m not remorseful enough in my writing. Painful to hear, but there is some truth to that. I have a difficult time crafting apologies. It’s not that I’m not remorseful or don’t recognize the seriousness and terrible consequences of my actions. I just don’t seem to be able to articulate it. Perhaps it’s because when confronted by the opportunity to express it, I become so embarrassed that the embarrassment holds me back from really digging in.

Recently, I sent apologies to the spouse and son of former investors who had recently passed away. I was conflicted, knowing my apology might only add to their burden. But I sent them anyway. I heard back from the son—a short, cold thank you. No warmth, no bridge extended. From the spouse, there was no response at all. But the silence carried its own weight, heavier than words.

Upon reflection, I realized that my efforts were, in truth, selfish attempts to receive forgiveness. I ignored the voice inside me that knew my apologies were really about me. For them, receiving any communication from me was only a further burden, a reopening of wounds that never healed.

There is one particular person who was the most impacted financially by my crimes. I’ve tried to craft a letter to him many times, but I fail every time. It haunts me. Even as I write this now, I know it still won’t happen. It’s one of those questions where the answer is obvious—you should write—but you can’t bring yourself to face it.

So I’m still trying to figure it out. Maybe they’re right and I’m not remorseful. Or at least not remorseful enough. I’m getting to hate the word. I used to know the definition, but it’s elusive now. Maybe I never really knew it. Or maybe I’m just not capable of remorse—a frightening prospect.

This is the world of convicted felons. Even the best of intentions collapse into a morass.

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