The Science of Apologising

Written by: Emily Evans

Be honest – have you ever found it difficult to apologise? It could range from not wanting to admit a mistake, to refusing to admit you were wrong to a friend because it’s so awkward. And whilst apologising can be awkward and uncomfortable in the moment, the long-term benefits always outweigh the emotional discomfort in the moment. But why do we find it so uncomfortable to apologise, even though we understand that the pros will usually outweigh the cons in the long-term?

The biggest factor is usually that apologising puts us in a place of emotional vulnerability. We’re giving power back to the person that we’re apologising to, and that puts us in a less powerful position. We’re asking people, usually people we care about, for forgiveness, knowing that we could be rejected – not an empowering position to be in. Psychologically, it temporarily lowers our self-esteem, because firstly, we’re feeling public shame for something we’ve done that we acknowledge secondly, for an apology to be genuine, you’ve got to admit to yourself and the other person that you’ve done something wrong. Often, the feeling of embarrassment of having done this action is a factor in making apologies feel uncomfortable; however, the emotional discomfort of admitting our mistakes – for the reasons mentioned above- is also a major factor.

Some of this discomfort is evolutionary. We naturally want to feel part of a ‘pack’, or ‘group’, which is the result of strong and stable bonds, and admitting mistakes makes us feel vulnerable in a way that undermines those bonds. We feel reluctant to expose ourselves for having done something wrong, because it makes us less secure in our social standing. And those feelings aren’t all down to evolution – it’s almost acknowledged that most people will experience some sort of social insecurity in their lives, and apologies can be an easy place for these feelings to arise.

However, on the flip side, we’ve got to be concious of over-apologising; always taking the blame, even when it’s not your fault, as a way to ensure that you stay on people’s good side. This can have a serious effect on your self-esteem and mental wellbeing, as you can fall into a pattern of constantly blaming yourself for other people’s mistakes. But, this is different to apologising when you aknowledge that you’ve made a mistake.

But, whist it can be difficult to apologise, the alternative, just brazening out the storm and hoping everything will pass – often leads to tensions in relationships that make things a little bit more uncomfortable. In marriage counselling, for instance, couples are told to discuss their problems, rather than cover them up. Psychologists often reference the ‘skill’ of having uncomfortable conversations; yes, they’re awkward in the moment, but they’re better in the long-run.

And like the ‘skill’ of uncomfortable conversations, apologies are also a ‘skill’ that people learn over time. Think about the most recent apology you’ve said, and the first one you can remember doing in primary school. You are most likely better at communicating your feelings recently than you were when you were younger. That’s because apologising better is part of maturing. It’s like a skill that you gain along the way – like working with challenging people, or empathy. It doesn’t matter how many how-to articles or self-help books you read; it’s a skill that comes with practice, reflection, and a willingness to try. But a big part of it is putting your ego aside, accepting the fact that you will feel uncomfortable emotions when apologising, but acknowledging that your relationships come before the feelings of pride and self-preservation that stop you from wanting to avoid those feelings. Additionally, it’s important not to instantly expect forgiveness – sometimes, for difficult issues, it may

take time. But relationships are defined both by how we recover from our lowest points, as well as how good things are at the highest ones.

To summarise, whilst apologising isn’t something anyone really enjoys doing, it’s an important life skill to have. We shouldn’t feel shame, or weakness, in apologising. It’s a testament to how much you care about the relationship, that you’re willing to be emotionally vulnerable with each other.

Should we reclaim the asylum?

Asylum

Tara, Year 13, explores whether the asylum would provide the best care for those with mental illnesses or whether it should be left in the past.

AsylumWhen someone says asylum in the context of psychology, what do you immediately think of? I can safely assume most readers are picturing haunted Victorian buildings, animalistic patients rocking in corners and scenes of general inhumanity and cruelty. However, asylum has another meaning in our culture. Asylum, when referring to refugees, can mean sanctuary, hope and care. Increasingly people are exploring this original concept of asylum, and whether we, in a time when mental illness is more prevalent than ever, can reclaim the asylum? Or is it, and institutional in general, confined to history?

In the last 40 years, there has been a shift towards, “care in the community” and deinstitutionalization, facilitated by the development of various new medications and therapies. This has undeniably led to significant improvements in many individual’s mental wellbeing, better protected their human rights and reduced stigmatisation.

However, it also has led to significant cuts in facilities for those unable to transition into society, with almost no long-term beds available in mental health hospitals or inpatient units. Whilst this has left some dependent on family and friends for support, many have ended up in prison or homeless, with a third of the homeless population estimated to be suffering from schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. Some would, therefore, argue that a reinvention and rebranding of the asylum could provide long term care for severely and chronically ill patients, who even with intensive therapies and drugs, are unlikely to reintegrate back into society.

Designed in collaboration with patients and experts, these ‘asylums’ are not necessarily all intended to be large scale hospitals. The system is intended to be flexible, varied and voluntary where possible.  By providing more community-based institutions, with as low a density of residents as possible, we can maximise privacy and trained staff can focus on each patient as individuals in a less punishing environment, removing many of the factors contributing to their distress, and overall improving their quality of life.

Arguably patients may become less isolated, as they are given a safe space to socialize and engage with people they can relate to and support. Unlike temporary units and mental health wards, these institutions would provide long term stability and respite, away from the continuous turbulence and disruption typical of hospitals.

Lastly many will benefit from the structure, intensive therapy and monitoring of medication provided by institutionalisation, which greatly reduces the likelihood of individuals harming themselves or relapsing. Some would argue the notion is too idealistic and that current models provide a utopian ideal of mental health care, and whilst seemingly unattainable it demonstrates to policymakers the importance and possibility of a change in direction.

This reinvention would require considerable time, money and commitment, especially as mental health care has been historically underfunded.  However, in this ever-changing climate the asylum might seem like a taboo topic of the past, but if we can shift our focus, if we can overcome our assumptions and reclaim the asylum in both meaning and function, it could be a thing of the future.

Japan- a culture to die for? Cultural attitudes to suicide in Japan and the West

Wimbledon High History

Gaining publicity following Youtuber Logan Paul’s video filmed in Aokigahara, one of Japan’s suicide hotspots, the extremely high suicide rate in Japan has been featured increasingly in Western news. In this article, Jess Marrais aims to explore possible historical and traditional reasons for both Japan and Western attitudes towards suicide.

The world of YouTube and social media crossed over into mainstream media on 1st January 2018 following a video uploaded by popular YouTuber, Logan Paul. Paul and a group of friends, while traveling around Japan, decided to film a video in ‘Aokigahara’, a forest at the base of Mt Fuji, famous as the second most popular suicide location in the world. The video, which has since been taken down, showed graphic images of an unknown man who had recently hanged himself, and Paul and the rest of his party were shown to joke and trivialise the forest and all that it represents.

Unsurprisingly, Paul received a lot of backlash, as did YouTube for their lack of response in regards to the video itself. This whole situation has restarted a discussion into Japanese suicide rates, both online and in mainstream media sources such as the BBC.

In the discussions surrounding the problem, I fear that little has been said in the UK about the cultural attitudes in Japan towards suicide, and how drastically they conflict with the historical beliefs entrenched in our own culture.

In Christianity, suicide is seen as one of the ultimate sins- to kill oneself is to play God, to decide when a soul should leave the Earth, and breaks one of the 10 Commandments (‘Thou shall not murder’). Historically, those victim to suicide were forbidden from having a Christian funeral or burial, and it was believed that their souls would have no access to heaven. As a result of this, it makes sense that in Christian countries suicide is frowned upon. We in the West view the high suicide rate in Japan, and other East-Asian countries, through our own cultural understanding; while in actual fact, the problem should be seen within the context of the cultural and historical setting of the countries themselves.

In Japan, the history of the samurai plays a large role in attitudes towards suicide. The samurai (military nobility) had monopoly over early Japan, and they lived by the code of ‘Bushido’- moral values emphasising honour. One of the core values of Bushido was that of ‘seppuku’- should a samurai lose in battle or bring dishonour to his family or shogun (feudal lord), he must kill himself by slitting open his stomach with his own sword in order to regain his- and his family’s – honour in death. Due to the prominent role the samurai played in Japanese society, this idea of killing oneself to regain honour seeped into all aspects of society, thanks to personal and familial honour being a central part of Japanese values, even today.

More recently, this warrior attitude to death can be seen in the famous World War II ‘kamikaze’ pilots- pilots who purposefully crashed their planes, killing themselves and destroying their targets (usually Allied ships). These pilots were typically young, and motivated by the prospect of bringing honour to their family and Emperor in death. During the war, 3,682 kamikaze pilots died, spurred on by the samurai code of Bushido.

In modern day, suicide is seen by many in Japan as taking responsibility. Suicide rates in Japan soared after the 2008 financial crash, reaching their highest at the end of the 2011 economic year. Current statistics say around 30,000 Japanese people of all ages commit suicide each year, as opposed to 6,600 per year in the UK.  Increasing numbers of Japan’s aging population (those over 65) are turning to suicide to relieve their family of the burden of caring for them. Some cases even say of unemployed men killing themselves to enable their family to claim their life insurance, in contrast to the UK where suicide prevents life insurance being from claimed. Regardless of the end of the samurai era and the Second World War, the ingrained mentality of honour drives thousands of people in Japan to end their own lives, motivated not only by desperation, but also the desire to do the right thing.

If anything can be taken away from this, it is to view stories and events from the cultural context within which they occur. While suicide is a tragic occurrence regardless of the country/culture in which it happens, social pressures and upbringing can – whether we are aware of it or not – influence a person’s actions. If this lesson can be carried forward to different cultures and stories, we will find ourselves in a world far more understanding and less judgemental than our current one.

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Suicide hotlines:

  • PAPYRUS: support for teenagers and young adults who are feeling suicidal – 0800 068 41 41

Further reading: