Redux
Every journey circles home
There is an apology. And then there is the kind of apology that comes with a tail, like that of Fidias Panayiotou. Not just any tail, but a peacock’s tail, fully fanned out so the Ego is on proud display, wrapped together with “I did not mean it” and “they were right to come after me”, all bundled into one glossy, feathered performance.
Let us be clear from the start. I am not questioning anyone’s sensitivity. Nor am I questioning the sensitivity of those who reacted, even if many of them, especially politicians, did so while watching their poll numbers slide. They have every right, and indeed a duty, to demand respect in public discourse. What equally deserves scrutiny, however, is the apology itself, in terms of its timing and its substance.
An apology, after all, is like milk. Leave it too long and it turns sour. And when it comes padded with lines such as “I did not do it on purpose”, “everyone piled on me”, “they want to tear me apart” and “fine, they were right, but why the delay?” then it stops being an apology. It becomes the classic non apology apology. Half hearted, heavily qualified and finished off with an unspoken “oh well” …
Sorry, but someone who holds public office, particularly at a European level, does not operate in a vacuum. All the more so when the misstep comes from someone like Fidias, who understands perfectly well how fast technology moves and how algorithms amplify controversy. He knows when something is blowing up. He knows when he should speak. In fact, he knows better than most.
The moment he made the blunder of referring to the S14 category of Paralympic athletes as “are they crazy?” he saw the backlash appear instantly on his screen. While casually eating his salad, he raised an eyebrow and smirked. That alone tells you he had ample time to grasp that people were offended and to apologise immediately. Instead, he waited until the next day, not because he suddenly understood, but because he had no choice.
When an apology takes twenty four hours to arrive, forgive me for saying so, but that delay looks calculated. And a calculated apology is always suspect. A genuine, instinctive apology does not wait for reactions to be counted, statements to be issued or complaints to be filed. It comes out straight away, because the person cannot live with the weight of the mistake. When it appears only after the whole universe reacts, it feels less like remorse and more like damage control.
The ancients were right when they said that half is worse than nothing. Here we are left with half an apology, half responsibility and half self reflection. The result is an apology that does not close the issue, but keeps dragging it along behind it.