Mike Daisey on Brian Williams / My advice for both of them

Mike Daisey has written an article for Slate with some advice for Brian Williams.

In case you've forgotten who Mike Daisey is, he's the one who lied about his experience at the Chinese iPhone factory in that This American Life episode from a while back (retraction episode).

Remember? He said all kinds of kooky made-up things, like how the factory guards had guns and how one worker—hand crippled from an accident on the production line—proclaimed "It's a kind of magic!" when seeing an iPad in action for the first time.

As someone who was caught in a lie and the subject of a major media backlash, Daisey figures he's in a particularly good position to advise Brian Williams on his next steps. Makes sense—a reformed liar takes a recently diagnosed liar under his wing. I like the premise.

In the article, Daisey gives three main pieces of advice. He says:

1. "First and foremost, apologize. Fully and directly."


2. "Next, read all the criticism. Every last lacerating thing someone—especially someone you respect—has to say."


3. "My final piece of advice: Let go of your pride."

That's all great. Good advice. Why couldn't he have left it at that?

Instead, he waffles on about the thought-process behind his lies, what he's learned about the nature of audiences, a Quran quote that inspires him to be better and blah blah blah. He's trying so hard to be the most sincere, repentant person on earth, but somehow he STILL manages to downplay his wrongdoing. It's lines like this that trouble me:

"Williams has more at stake than I ever did—he is, after all, an actual journalist" 

(Distinguishing himself as a non-journalist and therefore not subject to the same standards—he loves to do this.)

AND

"I’m a storyteller and monologist who works in the theater. But I recognize that in many ways what Brian Williams has done is the same thing I did: adding the first person, inserting yourself into stories in order to heighten and intensify their telling."'

(Explaining the reasoning behind the lies, how great storytelling is built on dramatisation.)

AND

"No one tells the unvarnished truth unless he wants to have a very short career—our culture teaches us that it would be far better to be mentally deficient and incompetent than to admit we lied."

(It's our culture's fault! Our culture's to blame!)

Sorry, Mike. I no longer think you're in a good position to be advising Brian Williams. Instead, allow me to impart some wisdom on both of you:

KEEP IT SHORT!

Image by myguitarzz via Wikimedia Commons

When it comes to apologies, no one wants to hear why you did it, what the experience has taught you or the ways you're making strides to be a better person.

All they want to hear is: I did it. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I won't do it again.

It's not up to you whether people forgive you or not, but the more you talk, the more likely you are to dig that hole deeper. Just give it time. Keep it short and give it time.

Cheers,
Margaret

P.S. I am longwinded. Just look at this post! My liberal use of adverbs and adjectives must have Hemingway rolling in his grave (he reads this from the grave, btw).

So, just like Mike Daisey, I am not good at saying "sorry" and then dropping it. Instead, I say sorry repeatedly about an inch from your ear until you're so fed up that you give up and forgive me. I realise that, again like Mike Daisey, I could use a strong dose of my own advice.