I BEG TO DIFFER: Stuff happens

Have you ever made a mistake? Forget a date or a birthday, call someone by the wrong name, slip up on a fact, show up in the wrong place at the wrong time, blurt out something you thought you were only thinking?

Of course. Even the most punctilious of us gets the occasional thing wrong. Stuff happens.

And then, what to do about it? We’ve had some bad role models about this in the past several years — people who are so thin-skinned and/or so overweeningly sure of themselves that they try to bluff their way out of mistakes or, worse, lie about them.

In most cases, though, there’s one proven three-step way to deal with a mistake we’ve made: admit it, apologize and promise not to do it again. The old saw applies: if you’re in a hole, stop digging.

Simple, eh?

If it were simple, there wouldn’t need to be highly paid crisis management specialists whose main job is to dig people, large and small corporations, and even well-meaning nonprofits, out of holes they’ve dug themselves.

For a few years, I was one of those specialists (if you omit the “highly paid” part.) The hardest part of my job was convincing people in high places that owning up to an error is the necessary first step in addressing a crisis. It’s part of human nature, apparently, to hide from the truth, deflect, shift blame and even deny responsibility when something goes wrong.

But in case after case, that simple approach of admission, apology and a promise to do better always smooths the waters, even in what feels like a tsunami.

There’s another part of this equation: What if you’re the “injured” party? How do you handle a mistake that affects you directly?

In a worst-case scenario, if you or someone you care about is injured by a mistake in care, judgment or attention to rules or detail, horror is the natural reaction. Grief is expressed in many different ways, and a desire for recompense accompanies injury and grief more often than not. Corporations have systems built into their structure to alleviate financial loss due to injury, once they’ve taken those first three steps.

But what if it’s something less drastic? What if the mistake is an irritant, but not the end of the world? What do we do then?

In my time as a human being, I’ve made many mistakes (particularly since, as I’ve been told time and again, my voice “carries”) and my memory is not improving as the years pass. In my time as a full-time journalist, both reporter and editor, I made my fair share of mistakes as well. Both kinds of mistakes are humbling, and I hope I’ve perfected the rapid application of that three-step method above.

But it doesn’t always work. No matter how small the mistake, it’s interesting to see the wide variation in ways other humans deal with concerns about an error.

I’ve had friends show their hurt about unintentional slights in a variety of ways, whether by an amused shake of the head or by a cool silence that lasts a while. I’ve had readers react more vehemently — either by making my ears burn during loud phone recriminations or by making my cheeks burn with annoyed letters.

I’ve been on the other side of that, as well. Sicilians are genetically disposed to holding grudges, and it’s a never-ending life’s work to resist the innate tendency to erupt when something goes wrong.

Clearly, depending on the situation, some folks (even some Sicilians) are generous in forgiving an error and accepting a promise to do better. Others, though, take great umbrage at an error of any size.

We saw this happen on the pages of this newspaper last week. Mistakes were made. One letter writer addressed the situation by pointing out two factual errors in a short, simple missive. Two other letter writers wrote paragraph after paragraph of excoriating prose, treating the mistakes as if they were the conspiratorial work of the dark web.

Did the errors deserve attention? Of course. Could the editorial staff have done better? Definitely. Was the apology the paper offered necessary? I think so.

And, the world did not end. Just as it didn’t end during that magnificent lunar/solar phenomenon last week, despite predictions made by creative conspiracy theorists. Just as it didn’t end during the little tremor we felt from that earthquake in New Jersey.

Stuff happens. If you truly believe a mistake needs addressing, don’t let it drop. Ask for an admission, an apology, and a promise to do better. Hold the person responsive to that promise.

Then, take a few healing breaths and let the bloody thing go.

Jo Ann Augeri Silva is the former editor of the Marblehead Reporter.