"My Bad"

Politics loves a long explanation. A simple mistake grows legs, then wings, and before long we get a press conference about context, something that quite frankly, no one asked for. The curious part is how often a small mistake could vanish with two short words: “my bad.” Just as a clear admission that something went sideways, followed by a plan to do better. Why is that so hard for elected representatives to say?

The reason is built into politics itself. Campaigns reward confidence, not reflection. Parties teach comebacks, not humility. The so called "experts" fear that any apology will be used against you. So every small mistake turns into a full-blown battle, even when the public just wants the problem fixed and life to move on.

The irony is that voters in a small community are usually generous. People bump into each other at the supermarket, at school events, at church. They know that their politicians are not Ms. or Mr. Perfect. They want competence, honesty, and the kind of leadership that can say, without performance: “I got this one wrong, here is what I learned, here is what I will change.” Respect grows from that mix of humility and follow-through. Trust fades when the same error repeats because pride took over.

A real apology ends the drama. It stops outrage before it grows. Instead, we get weeks of excuses and spin, and the only thing people learn is how much time gets wasted. In the meantime, defensiveness has another cost. It makes leaders sound like they are acting for the benefit of political rivals rather than for the public. When every answer is tailored to deny an opponent a headline, the community easily hears that calculation. It begins to feel like theater. Leadership by example requires the opposite posture. Set the tone, admit the miss, act fast to fix it, then move on to the work. If critics still want to talk about the past, let them. Voters notice who is solving problems and who is stalling progress.

Another part is our culture to defend a political color at all cost. Supporters often rally around a leader with blind energy, which is admirable, but it helps emboldened that elusive non-apology, and the person who is supposed to be issuing the apology, is wrongly guided by emotion around them. For that mindset to change, leaders must see a change in the public as well. The public, for its part, should meet honest apologies with honest grace. If we want officials to model accountability, we should resist the rush to mock every stumble forever. Accountability means consequences when lessons are not learned, not permanent exile for human mistakes that were owned and corrected. If the error repeats, trust should fall. If the behavior improves, trust should rise. That is how grownups do community.

Politics does not have to be a factory of division. Cohesion begins with credibility, and credibility grows when leaders treat the public like adults. No one expects superhuman perfection. People expect competence, and competent leadership includes the ability to say, with clarity and speed, “my bad,” learn from it, and move forward.

If that habit takes root, the community will get the benefit, which is the point of public service in the first place.

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