Why Forced Apologies Don’t Teach Kids to Care. They Teach Them to Perform
Politeness is easy to mimic. Empathy takes time.
It happened at a family BBQ. I remember this like it was yesterday, not 14 years ago.
My ruddy-cheeked four-year-old, donning a little khaki shorts and a polo shirt meant for a man, wild with excitement, plowed into his toddler sister while running toward the watermelon.
She toppled, and then there was that horrible beat of silence before she wailed. The bowl of chips went flying as my husband darted toward the scene of the crime.
My in-laws turned. My sister was shocked.
My son looked absolutely terrified by the events of the last few seconds.
And right on cue, the script showed up in my brain:
“Make him say sorry. Now.”
Because that’s what good parents do, right?
But here’s the thing about “Sorry’s” and little kids… A forced apology doesn’t teach empathy.
It teaches performance.
“Say You’re Sorry” Is a Script That Skips the Learning
We want our kids to take responsibility.
We want to teach kindness.
We want to restore peace and save face.
But if you’ve ever tried to get a sobbing preschooler to look someone in the eye and say sorry, you already know:
It rarely lands, sometimes it escalates,
And it almost never feels genuine.
Here’s why: They can’t learn when they’re flooded.
A child who just caused harm, even accidentally, is likely overwhelmed themselves. Their nervous system is on fire. The part of the brain that can process feelings, hold perspective, and find the right words? Fully offline.
And that makes sense, right? Because even just witnessing my four-year-old accidentally knock down my toddler, I couldn’t think straight, and I am an adult with a fully formed frontal lobe.
So when we insist on a “sorry” right then, we’re asking them to:
Understand the impact of their actions
Feel remorse
Self-regulate
Express empathy
And say it all nicely
On demand.
So what are we supposed to do? We can’t just ignore it when our kids hurt someone. We have to teach them to be sorry, right?
What Works Better: Calm First, Repair Later
Let’s go back to the BBQ:
Instead of forcing a quick apology, I said:
“Emma’s crying. That was a big crash. Let’s help her.”
As I comforted my daughter, I grounded my son with a job:
“Nate-Nate, go get Emma her water bottle. That will start to help her feel better.”
Later, when everyone was calm, I said:
“Emma got hurt and felt scared. You were so excited about the watermelon, you ran without looking! I know you didn’t mean to hurt her. I am not angry with you, and you are not in trouble.”
Then I waited and listened. It was up to him whether he wanted to talk more.
And guess what? He did.
He said, “Yeah, and then I got her water bottle and her favorite owl lovey and she flet better!”
“That’s right, buddy. You knew how to help her feel better.”
A few weeks later, his preschool teacher approached me at pick up:
Today, one of the children in our class fell in the block area, and they were crying. While I was comforting them, Nate went into her backpack and got her water bottle and her blankie. All on his own! And it really helped.”
That’s empathy. That’s repair.
That’s the goal.
PAID SUBSCRIBERS: What to Say Instead of “Say Sorry” at Every Age
Real phrases. Real situations. Tools that build empathy, not just obedience.