My college roommate, Deborah Levi, was brilliant. (She died of breast cancer at 34.) Her New York University Law Review article on the role of apology in mediation is still cited all over the place (Google it – I’ll wait) and reflects who she was: A person with an incredibly shrewd mind but a big heart and seemingly endless insight into what makes people tick.

Deb felt that apology was totally appropriate in mediation. When interpersonal conflicts escalate into legal disputes, it’s often because one person is so hurt and angry, he or she can see no other option than to lash out. But Deb thought apologies could play a meaningful role in bringing people closer to settlement. How? By pulling back the angry person from the brink. Which is not something the law is always good at. “The legalization of disputes,” she wrote, “shifts the parties’ focus away from private moral concerns to strategic maneuvers and legal consequences.” In other words, it’s the lawyers’ job to dispassionately figure out where the dispute fits within the rubric of the law, to put a dollar figure on the matter and set legal wheels in motion. Lawyers tend not to be all about TEH FEELS. But an apology can help the aggrieved person get beyond the feeling of betrayal and prepare to mediate in a clear-eyed way.

GK Chesterton supposedly said, “The injured party does not want to be compensated because he has been wronged; he wants to be healed because he has been hurt.” And that quote seems particularly appropriate here. (Though I’ve been unable to confirm that Chesterton actually said this; let me know if you know!)

In Deb’s law review piece, “The Role of Apology in Mediation” (not available for free, alas, sorry) Deb wrote that some kinds of apologies are more meaningful than others. We at SorryWatch, of course, agree. Deb felt there were four types of apology:

1. Tactical — an apology that’s purely strategic, a rhetorical exercise, not a heartfelt “I’m truly sorry.” A tactical apology is spin. It’s posturing. It’s the “I’m sorry if anyone was offended” apology.

2. Explanation – an apology that’s intended to counter the accusation of wrongdoing but is just as likely to come off as a defense of the person’s behavior (the “I misspoke because I was exhausted doing GOD’S WORK” apology)

3. Formalistic —an apology that’s only forthcoming after being elicited by an authority figure (the network made me apologize, mom says I can’t have dessert unless I say I’m sorry for pulling the head off your Barbie)

4. Happy ending — the only apology that involves taking full responsibility for the wrongdoing and being genuinely remorseful. This is the kind of apology most likely to make the person who feels wronged be able to take a deep breath. This is the kind of apology that shows an understanding that the injured party has lost something, has been wounded, and now has been heard. It takes at least some responsibility, acknowledges harm, and expresses regret. And this is the kind of apology that can have an important, productive, healing role in mediation. An example of such an apology is Jason Alexander’s apology after making a homophobic joke on Craig Ferguson’s show, or TV host Ann Northrop’s personal apology to an audience member, which was followed by a public mea culpa, after she dissed rural Kentucky.

Lawyers and doctors tend to viscerally feel that if they apologize they’re admitting legal culpability. This isn’t necessarily so. (As we saw in Sumac’s post on the veterinarian who wanted to apologize for an unfortunate outcome but worried about the consequences.) Deb cites two medical examples, one in which a gynecologist apologized to a patient but the apology wasn’t deemed itself sufficient to establish negligence, and another case in which the apology wasn’t even sufficient to raise evidence before a jury. So, no.

I’m truly sorry the world won’t get more of Deb’s legal wisdom. If something she wrote at the age of 29 is still so influential, imagine what she could have written if she’d lived longer. She was a musician, a wife and a French scholar, too. She fought for LGBT rights and did all kinds of pro bono work. (The law firm where she worked, Ropes & Gray, still awards the Deborah Levi Award for Outstanding Pro Bono Service every year.) And she was funny as hell. I miss her.

deb at my wedding