“I’m sorry” carries immense emotional, social, and psychological weight. It acts as a bridge—from acknowledging harm to reconciliation and healing.
Well, that’s what it’s meant to do, anyway…
In many societies—especially in British culture—I’ve noticed how common it is to apologise for even the smallest things. The word “sorry” is used so instinctively, it’s almost like a punctuation mark in everyday conversation. We’ve been conditioned to say “sorry” not because we mean it, but because it’s socially expected. Often, it’s the most hollow kind of apology—something we say to ease our own discomfort rather than to express genuine remorse. But if it’s meant to carry emotional and relational weight, why has it become so casually embedded in our language?
Think about it: how many times a day do you say “sorry”?
Sorry I’m late…
Sorry I didn’t get a chance to…
Sorry if this sounds weird…
Sorry to bother you…
Sorry something completely out of my control has happened—and even though it’s not my responsibility, I feel like I have to apologise to make up for it somehow…
Reflecting on why we say “sorry” so often, I noticed that many of us aren’t apologising for anything meaningful—we’re apologising for existing. We say “sorry” when we need help, when we take up space, or when we want to be heard. Over time, this kind of apology erodes self-worth. We’re not just being polite; we’re subconsciously devaluing ourselves.
How many times has someone personally apologised to you, and you weren’t sure they meant it?
I can’t help but think that when we are genuinely “sorry,” the way we try to show it—through tone and body language—can sometimes come off as forced or insincere. I’ve apologised before—truly, gut-wrenchingly sorry—and in those moments, it mattered. I tried to show the person how deeply I regretted what happened. Because otherwise, how is it any different from the casual “sorry” we toss around passively, day in and day out? The word has become so diluted and stripped of its sincerity, making it difficult to make it feel real when, most of the time, it’s not.
Society also tends to accept—without much question—the stereotype that women apologise more than men. Research suggests this behaviour stems from childhood, where girls are often taught that “good” behaviour means being empathetic and hyper-aware of how their actions affect others, shaping a tendency to over-apologise (Jacobson, 2024). This attitude subconsciously bleeds into adulthood. A 2010 study found that women apologise more often not because they’re more at fault, but because they’re more likely to perceive a situation as offensive in the first place (Schumann & Ross, 2010).
Apologies shouldn’t be used just to smooth over mild discomfort or to make someone else feel better about an honest, respectful decision. That said, there’s still value in a simple “sorry” in everyday situations—like bumping into someone in a crowded bar. When you consider the environment and the situation you're in, it’s in moments like that when a quick apology can defuse tension and prevent things from escalating. But that’s exactly the point: even then, it serves a real purpose. It’s intentional.
I looked to other cultures to understand their approach to passive apologies. I quickly found that, in particular, Germans use the word “sorry” far less casually. This is not only due to cultural differences in communication styles, but also because of the seriousness they attach to apologising. Germans are known for their directness—sometimes perceived as blunt or even rude—but when they do apologise, they genuinely mean it. Because apologies are rare, they carry real weight. In contrast, our overuse of the word can strip it of its sincerity.
These days, I've become more mindful of how often I say "sorry," especially after realising how frequently I catch myself apologising passively. Recently, I had a great opportunity to practise this restraint when I ended things with someone I’d been briefly dating. From the start, I was honest: I wasn’t sure I was ready for a relationship. We went on a few dates—he’s a great guy—but eventually, I realised I didn’t want to keep going. So, I dusted off the old “we need to talk” line, asked to meet, and told him, kindly and clearly, that while I valued our time together, I wasn’t interested in continuing. He took it like a champ, there was no drama, and we simply went on our merry way.
And from everything I did say, the one thing I didn’t say was: “I’m sorry.”
Because I wasn’t. And that’s the point.
References:
Jacobson, R. (2024). Why girls apologize too much. Child Mind Institute. https://childmind.org/article/why-girls-apologize-too-much/
Schumann, K., & Ross, M. (2010). Why women apologize more than men: Gender differences in thresholds for perceiving offensive behavior. Psychological Science, 21(11), 1649–1655. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/20855900/