How, under Donald Trump, we are increasingly becoming unapologetically unapologetic

I watch the 7 a.m. news opening most days on Good Morning America, and after all these years, I’ve come to sense the subtle shifts in tone and mannerisms of the anchors when something they have to report goes against their grain, shall we say.

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This is, perhaps, an observation only loyal viewers can pick up.

When Robin Roberts introduced Juju Chang’s interview with the newly pardoned Chrisleys, that obnoxious and sanctimonious reality TV couple, Todd and Julie, who were convicted of bank fraud and tax evasion, I could feel her pain. To me, she was not happy about the fact that ABC News debased itself by featuring the phony Chrisleys.

The embarrassment was evident by the grimace on Roberts’s face when they cut back to the anchors after the segment. George Stephanopoulos asked Chang about the lack of apology from the Chrisleys. And I wondered about the same thing.

There were no apologies from the Chrisleys. No remorse. No ownership of the overwhelming evidence against them. Just mentions of “God,” affirmations of their hypocritical faith, and defiant declarations that they had nothing to be sorry for. “God,” it seems, has replaced the good old-fashioned apology.

And does anyone else see the humongous schism between God and contrition?

And in the Trump era, where “sorry” is seen as a weakness and not a virtue, it all makes a warped kind of sense, because as it turns out, we’re just numb to the fact that we’re reflecting what’s coming out of the White House. We’re probably blithely unaware. Subsumed by all the daily illegalities of Trump that we are missing the illogic of all that was moral under Trump.

In this case, it’s his immoral repeal of repentance.

I wrote after the 2024 election that when Americans choose a president, they choose a reflection of themselves, and by choosing Donald Trump, the country revealed something ugly, that it's inherently selfish. But I left out an attribute. Beyond selfishness, there’s something else Trump has been slowly instilling in us, and that is to never have to say the words “I’m sorry.” Ever. Not under any circumstances.

We are becoming unapologetically unapologetic.

He never apologized for mocking the disabled. Or insulting Gold Star families. Or downplaying COVID-19 while thousands died. Or even, most recently, for blurting out an expletive while ranting about Israel and Iran. Instead of any contrition, Trump gave the middle finger to civility, and in my humble opinion, America has followed suit. The middle finger points freely these days. JD Vance flipped the bird last week during the dinner in Ohio.

Trump and Vance are vociferous in their vulgarity, and America yawns, shrugs and flippantly follows suit, with no apologies.

The Chrisleys are only the latest example. Just last week, U.S. Sen. Mike Lee posted offensive content on social media after two Minnesota lawmakers and their spouses were shot, and one couple died. The outrage was swift. The post was deleted. But an apology? Nowhere to be found. He didn't even pretend to be sorry.

Kevin Spacey, who is currently attempting a so-called comeback, shows no real remorse for the numerous, credible allegations of sexual harassment against him. He’s not seeking forgiveness; he’s looking for revenge. “I won’t work with those who judged me guilty,” he said defiantly. Never mind the survivors.

During his embarrassing run for New York City mayor, Andrew Cuomo was given an opportunity to express regret for his disastrous nursing home policy during COVID, a policy that contributed to countless deaths. A grieving son stood before him, asking for some form of accountability. Cuomo offered none, only saying he was sorry for the death of the man’s father. But not apologizing for his errant actions.

In today’s America, we don’t say sorry. We double down. We gaslight. We blame someone else. And when all else fails, we curse, or protrude our middle finger.

That’s what Trump does. And a small-town mayor in Waxhaw, North Carolina, did it too. When going into a rage and swearing on video during a public meeting, the town actually edited the footage so as not to highlight the breach of decorum but to hide it. Yet, the mayor would not issue an apology. Why should he? No one really seems to care about decorum anymore.

So what have we become? Or more precisely, what are we becoming?

When did it become normal, expected even, to meet a call for decency with defensiveness, or worse, aggression?

The other day, I was walking out of my building behind a woman. It was just the two of us. She looked at me, and we locked eyes, and still she exited the building before me, and let the door slam in my face.

I called out, “Excuse me, why didn’t you hold the door?” She didn’t even turn around. “I’m in a hurry. I didn’t know you were there.” But she did. I smiled at her. She saw me. A simple “I’m sorry” could have defused the moment. But she got nasty instead.

And I thought, She’s just like everyone else these days. From rude people at the gym with no consideration for anyone else to the car that cut me off last Wednesday to the person who spilled their coffee in an elevator and left the mess behind. Being rude and unrepentant is the new norm.

It’s not just the rich and powerful. It's all of us. The refusal to say “I messed up” or “I could have done better” has trickled down. The idea that apologies are weak has soaked into the culture like poison.

Apologies are not admissions of defeat. They are acknowledgments of our humanity. They are gestures of grace. They open the metaphorical doors to healing. But instead of turning the other cheek, we now poke the other person in the eye and then act like we’re the victim or that we’ve done nothing wrong.

This is another legacy of Trump’s America. An era not just of selfishness but of shamelessness. Where redemption isn’t sought because it isn’t valued. Where no one is sorry, and no one thinks they should be.

Until we relearn the value of contrition, of humility, of simply saying “I’m sorry,” we are doomed to live in a nation that grows colder, crueler, and more disconnected by the day.

And I can imagine some obstinate people reading this column, and in a moment of hubris, saying, “That’s not me,” while the door slams behind them.

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