
Fewer Things Better
Fewer Things Better
Ep. 178 - Sorry Not Sorry: The Brain Science of Apologizing Too Much
Why do we say “sorry” so often — even when there’s nothing to apologize for? In this episode, we dig into the psychology, neuroscience, and social conditioning behind our habit of over-apologizing. From the “likability penalty” to the way our brains wire habits in the limbic system, you’ll hear why “sorry” slips out so reflexively — and how to retrain your words so they carry more power.
Oh, hi. Sorry to interrupt. Is now a good time to listen to this episode? It’ll only take a minute… well, more like eight or nine minutes…I’m sorry, is that okay?
Actually, friends, the Bottom Line On Top of this episode is that when we start speaking with a “sorry,” we automatically turn down the volume on everything that follows.
Most of us have a complicated history with the word “sorry.” In the right circumstances, it’s necessary, powerful, healing. And a lot of other times though, it’s reflexive, overused, or misplaced.
This episode takes a closer look at the neuroscience, psychology, and social conditioning behind the habit of apologizing. We will also look at how to retrain your brain on when to use it and where it matters.
This is a personal word-nerd passion of mine. In fact, if we’re talking and one of us says “sorry” out of context, I’ll probably bring it up. I like to call it my “aggressively helpful” side.
That side was in full motion recently. I was co-hosting a business retreat for 50 women in California. The audience was impressive: an Olympic medalist, business leaders, board members, PhDs, storytellers — heavy hitters across industries. And yet, in the first few hours together, I heard the jingle of “sorries” scattered throughout the conversations.
It reminded me how often we all shrink our words to make ourselves a little smaller. But here’s the thing: we are actually allowed to take up space, and so are our words.
Psychology research has found that women report giving more apologies than men, but they also report perceiving more situations as offensive in the first place. So what this means is that even when men and women apologize at similar rates when they believe an offense has occurred–the difference is that men set the bar higher for what even counts as requiring an apology on their behalf.
And this links directly to what’s called the “likability penalty.” Tech leader and author Sheryl Sandberg as well as other researchers have shown evidence that when men assert themselves in situations — by speaking up, negotiating, or asking for what they want or need — they’re seen as being confident. When women do the exact same thing, they can be judged as being aggressive, abrasive, or unlikable. While this shows up more often for women, the habit of cushioning our presence with apologies is deeply human.
That creates a double bind: be strong, but not too strong. Be competent, but hey, also be nice. And one way people manage that invisible tension is through language — with little softenings with words like “I was just following up,” “maybe,” “I was wondering,” or of course, “I’m sorry.” These words are like social cushions. They sand down the sharp edges of what might otherwise be seen as too much.
But those little cushions, though, come at a cost. They chip away at credibility, at confidence and at authority. More than that though, they shrink us from the inside.
When you look at it from a neuroscience perspective, it makes sense– our brains crave belonging. The limbic system is always scanning for threat, and social threat often looks like disapproval or rejection. Over time, our brains learn that apologizing makes us softer, safer. But safety shouldn’t mean being smaller. We are wired to belong, yes, but we are also allowed to expand.
The best part of our brains is that neuroplasticity gives us back our choice. When we notice our words, when we update our language, we can still build belonging without always bending and blending.
So let’s play with some word replacements. Think of it like using Find & Replace in a document — only this time, we’re editing some of our daily language.
“Sorry I’m late” becomes “Thank you for waiting.”
“Sorry for the delay” becomes “Thank you for your patience with my reply.”
“Sorry, can I ask a question?” becomes “I have a question.”
“Sorry to interrupt” becomes “I’d like to jump in here.”
“Sorry to bother you” becomes “When you have a chance, I’d love your input.”
And one I used just this week: instead of “Sorry I missed your birthday,” I simply said, “Happy recent birthday.”
Each of these shifts takes the weight off of apology and puts it into gratitude or clarity. Every time you swap a reflexive “sorry” with that level of confidence but respect, you’re not just editing a word — you’re expanding your presence. You’re giving your words the space they deserve.
So here’s an opportunity for the week ahead: pay attention to your subtle sorries. Track them somehow, or even ask a trusted person to gently flag them for you. Not as a criticism, but as awareness. Once you hear them, you can start to shift them.
To be clear, “sorry” isn’t a word that needs to be erased. It’s one of the most powerful bridges we have in our relationships. But if we scatter that word everywhere, we dilute its strength — and ours.
The real power of language is that it can expand us or shrink us. Our words don’t just land in the ears of others — they echo in our own minds. When we use “sorry” reflexively, it can make us smaller. When we use it intentionally, it makes us stronger.
So reclaim your “sorry.” Use them when they are healing, when they are connecting, when they matter. And release them when they do not serve you.
So try a little sorry-not-sorry. The words we start with adjust the volume of everything that follows. Take care to make your words meaningful and memorable, just like you.