In the world of public speaking, we have a maxim we try to adhere to that says, “It’s not what you say, but what they hear.” I wish the companies attempting to deliver apologies would heed this rule of conduct as well. Here is what I heard in both of the ads:

“Our initial intention was noble, but we quickly figured out how to exploit your vulnerabilities. Now that we’ve been caught and exposed, we want you to think we’ve really learned our lesson this time. Come on back now—the water’s fine.”

We all know that this behavior is driven by profit pressures—and the insanity of quarterly reporting on such. I personally feel bad for all the good people I know who work for these corporations and who do their best each day for their clients. Wells Fargo has many such people who seek nothing but the best for clients and have never come close to the sins of their banking comrades. Yet they are suffering for the manifold breaches of trust and will continue to do so.

This column is not about finger-wagging and pontificating about the obvious, but rather figuring out what matters most about money—and nothing matters more than trust. Two thoughts come to mind:

1. What is the proper manner in which to deliver an apology?

2. What promises are we making (or implying) in our practices, and can we keep those promises?

I Was Wrong

I remember being advised years ago in a premarital counseling session: “Here’s the basic formula for getting past offenses: First, admit it by saying, “I was wrong.” Second, say it and mean it: “I am sorry for what I did or said.” And third, ask, “Will you forgive me?”

I can’t think of any counsel better than that. The last thing anyone wants to hear in an apology is a PR campaign at the front end telling people what great people they are— followed by a flippant, “I’m sorry” and concluding with a slightly veiled defense of the action taken. That kind of apology never works.

It’s impossible to be in business for long without offending someone along the way. Offenses are often the result of unmet (and unspoken) expectations. It would behoove us all to be as clear as possible about what people can and should not expect from us. Years ago I interviewed a wise advisor named John Sestina who told me he would point-blank ask a prospect or client, “What are your expectations of me?” while he held a pen poised over a legal pad.