The future may seem dark at the moment, but for the motivated citizen, it actually offers a wide and enticing range of careers, including director of biohacking, space-shuttle pilot and bespoke gene splicer. None of these, however, can provide the job security and satisfaction of a new field, which was not on guidance counsellors' radars even a year ago. The hot career of tomorrow is the apology ghostwriter.
Allegations of sexual misconduct against high-profile men have piled up in the past couple of months, followed in some cases by public apologies. These apologies, alas, often resembled Christmas crackers purchased at the dollar store: cheap, hollow and containing nothing of value at their core.
I think this may be my Plan B. I'll establish a school of apology ghostwriting, and the first thing I'll do is send out a form letter to our many clients:
"I'm sorry that I:
- Locked you in my office using my creepy executive harassment button and made grotesque overtures.
- Walked around the office not wearing pants while we were meant to be discussing Article 5.
- Masturbated into a potted plant and made you watch, even as your face suggested you’d rather be in hospital
- Ignored your humanity and crushed your spirit.
- All of the above.”
The form letter would be only a start, though. I would also provide a custom tailoring service, carefully designing each apology for maximum sincerity and comfort to the victims. The apology-ghostwriting service would provide a corrective to the cynicism, bad faith and omissions that came before, by drawing on a few simple principles:
Actually apologize
Oh, how I wish Senator Al Franken had hired me before he made his unfortunate resignation speech to the Senate. I like Mr. Franken, and I like his politics and passion, but boy, his resignation stank like a tuna-fish sandwich at a Death Valley picnic.
Not once did Mr. Franken apologize to the half-dozen women who have accused him of inappropriate behaviour. Not once did the word "sorry" cross his lips. He did talk about how hard it was to be a senator, and how much his family loved him, and – if you read between the lines – how much it sucked that he was being drummed out by his colleagues. Restitution for his victims, genuine repentance – these were absent.
At least Mr. Franken admitted wrongdoing, however grudgingly, by resigning. Contrast this with the denials of Senate candidate Roy Moore, who calls his accusers malicious liars, and the forked-tongue-in-chief, Donald Trump, who has also brushed off the accusations of misconduct aimed by more than a dozen women and accused them of lying. Rehabilitation of these reputations is beyond the scope of the apology-ghostwriting school, although they could try my neighbour who runs the business next door at 666.
Don't use your family for sympathy
Yes, we get it. There will probably not be a lot of Netflix and chill at your house for years to come. Even the dog would rather play fetch on his own. This is a cynical ploy. By drawing attention to the people who loved you once, you try to draw a veil of sympathy around yourself, and fail to acknowledge the people you have really harmed – your victims.
"I realize the depth of the damage and disappointment that I have left behind at home and at NBC," Matt Lauer wrote in his apology. "… I regret that my shame is now shared by the people I cherish dearly."
Years ago, Bill Clinton, an Olympic-level skater around truth, actually made a joke about how many people he'd apologized to for his transgressions – the country, his supporters, his family. Except he forgot to say sorry to the women who accused him of sexual misconduct, or to the young women whose life was shattered by the scandal that ended up, unfairly, bearing her name.
Leave God out of it. God's hands are too busy to worry about your wandering ones
Bill O'Reilly, former Fox News host, non-apologist and modern-day Job, laments his persecution at the hands of his harassment accusers, some of whom he has paid millions of dollars in settlements: "Am I mad at God? Yeah, I'm mad at him," Mr. O'Reilly wrote. God, who was otherwise occupied with wildfires in California and trying to save the last remaining elephants from poachers, was not available for comment.
Meanwhile, New Orleans celebrity chef John Besh, whose restaurant empire was the subject of more than two dozen sexual-misconduct claims, suggested that religion might provide some refuge from the storm: "I have been seeking to rebuild my marriage and come to terms with my reckless actions given the profound love I have for my wife, my boys and my Catholic faith." The Pope, who was busy rewriting the Lord's Prayer and wondering why there were so many idiots on earth, was not available for comment.
Don't suggest that harassment became a bad thing only in 2017, following decades of harmless flirtation and fun
"I always felt that I was pursuing shared feelings, even though I now realize I was mistaken," said TV host Charlie Rose, who is accused of walking around naked in front of junior colleagues, groping them and making unwanted sexual advances.
"I came of age in the sixties and seventies, when all the rules about behaviour and workplaces were different," producer Harvey Weinstein wrote in a statement that barely addressed the many allegations against him. "That was the culture then." The truth is that harassment policies have been in place for decades, and women have been identified as human beings for millenniums before that. Not realizing that is no defence.
It's not "the climate"; it's you
Men as disparate as actor Danny Masterson and Republican Congressman Trent Franks have cited a hostile cultural climate as the reason they were fired from their TV show (in Mr. Masterson's case) and forced to resign from Congress (in Mr. Franks's); this is a mischaracterization. Yes, it's true that the climate has changed so that an exposed penis might no longer find the boardroom a welcoming environment, for example, but this is not a bad thing. In fact, it might be the only positive aspect of climate change yet recorded.
The school of apology ghostwriting is now open. Hit me up.