Life as performance art

By Fr. G. Corwin Stoppel

Fr. G. Corwin Stoppel

While prowling through a book store I came across the title of a fairly new publication, “Mistakes Were Made.” It examined how large and small businesses, public personalities and individuals try to avoid looking bad when things go wrong.

More important, it provided a semi-apology for the hurt caused to others by those who shun taking responsibility. After all, such an admission could result in civil or criminal liability.

“Mistakes” deals with adult versions of the school child’s saga about “the dog ate my homework.” Of course, if the dog then got sick from eating the homework, the savvy child could say, “A mistake was made,” rather than admit to being careless or absent-minded.

This sort of blame-shifting comes across as just plain cowardly. We all have trotted out the old clich/ that no one is perfect. After all, we rarely begrudge that our finest professional baseball players receive multiple millions of dollars to be wrong more than six times out of 10 when they are at bat.

The same is true in other sports as well. We admire the moral fiber of an athlete who will openly say his opponent was the better player.

But for some reason, most of us don’t extend that same courtesy to ourselves, much less others. If we make a mistake, we look for some plausible excuse.

Late getting home? We complain about heavy traffic, not that we left just in time to get caught up in an industrial-strength jam. A meal that has turned into a burnt offering? The phone rang, someone came to the door, there must be something wrong with the stove or oven.

All are analagous to “the dog ate my homework” and “mistakes were made.”

Then, if someone else errs, it is easy to go on the attack. They should have known better, been more conscious of what they were doing or saying. It’s our opportunity to rip them to shreds, it seems.

It’s no wonder that rather than accept responsibility for their goof, they trot out the semi-apology that starts with, “If anyone was hurt by this, I am sorry to hear it.”

Politicians shift the blame or “spin” all the time to make themselves look a little better.

I think the last elected official who publically said he made a real bonehead mistake was President Harry Truman. When he said “The buck stops here,” he meant it.

It didn’t win Truman many friends at the time, and it took a few years for the rest of us to catch on to his real character, but we realized he was an honest man who could admit an honest mistake.

I’m half tempted to vote for the first candidate with enough courage to admit they made any bone-headed decision since being chosen a first-grade milk monitor in elementary school.