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Oil and Apology In 1991, I learned the power of taking responsibility and apologizing. One evening in January of that year, I received a call about a "small" oil spill from a client's vessel. Having responded to small spills in the past, I told my wife I would be back in a couple of hours. I didn't come home for three days. By the time I arrived at the harbor, the "small" spill had become the largest spill ever in the Port of Los Angeles. The main channel of one of the busiest ports in the world would close for five days to clear the channel of oil. Five contractors, hundreds of laborers, and millions of dollars of equipment would be required over 3 months to clean it all up. Leeds hotel roomsDue to the total exhaustion of others, and the conflicting messages and orders that were circulating, I stepped into the leadership vacuum that night and couldn't leave. I would spend the next month on the scene on nearly a 24-hour a day basis, which slowly diminished over the following two months. Among my duties was setting up a claims resolution procedure. More than two thousand claims resulted from the spill. Commercial boat operators and fishermen were furious. To clear the main channels, we purposely corralled the oil into marinas where their boats were docked, oiling their hulls, and preventing them from leaving the marinas for nearly two months. Boat owners living on their boats claimed personal injuries from the oil floating around their homes for weeks. One woman even claimed she suffered a miscarriage from the oil. Large ocean-going cargo ships were delayed and stranded due the shutdown of the main channel. Two days after the spill, I stood before an angry mob of claimants attempting to explain how we would process their claims. The mood was ugly. Before the meeting started, a group was collecting names and contact information to start a class action against my client. The group leaders sat in the front row. After I got a few words out, the shouting began. "Where's my money!" "What are you going to do to get me out of the Marina?" "How could you people have been so stupid to let this happen?" I apologized and took full responsibility for the spill on behalf of the shipowner. I was dressed in blue jeans and a long sleeve shirt. During the entire 3 months, I never wore a suit. Most people didn't know I was a lawyer; to them, I was simply the owner's representative. I told the crowd we were sorry for the inconvenience they were suffering, and that we were actively trying to clean up the mess as soon as possible. The shouting continued. I then asked each person who spoke up what he or she thought we should be doing that we weren't doing at the time. When they suggested something (and many of the suggestions were excellent), we wrote it down on a large white board. Soon it was full. Then an angry fellow at the back of the crowd stood up and yelled, "We don't care about all of this. WHERE'S OUR MONEY? WE WANT IT NOW!" At that, one of the leaders of the group organizing against us stood up, turned around, and yelled back at him, "Sit down and shut up. These people are trying to help." By apologizing and acknowledging full responsibility, we turned our potential enemies into allies. The group organizing against us became our liaisons with all of the claimants. Within two weeks of the spill, we settled and paid 600 claims. Within three months of the spill, we had settled and paid all 2,000-plus claims. * * * Later, the entire complexion of the case changed. We proved in civil and criminal proceedings that despite the U.S. Coast Guard's definitive oil-spill fingerprinting matches of the spilled oil and the oil on our client's vessel, 93 percent of the oil was not ours. It came from another vessel, which pumped it from an oil-filled a ballast tank and left the harbor in the dark of night. Our opponent in the civil action never challenged the amounts we paid in settling the claims, nor our administrative costs in resolving those claims. Their expert acknowledged that we obtained excellent values. Our opponent did, however, attempt to use my apologies and admissions of responsibility to the claimants and to the press against us. But the judge didn't buy it. Because I had been sincere, given what I'd known at the time, attempts to use my admissions fell on deaf ears and made my opponent look like they were trying to avoid the facts we'd uncovered. Since the spill, I have found that saying you're sorry and taking responsibility have magical effects on everyone in a crisis. Whether it is a traffic accident or a major disaster, acknowledging the tragedy and the emotions of those involved eases the tension and allows for rational discourse about what to do next.
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