The unbearable rightness of being wrong: how do you admit fault in a post-shame world? | James Colley

I'm not looking for a basic apology, I want the perfect apology - a mea culpa so good that everyone agrees I am an untouchable moral paragon

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There's a freezer at the back of my house that I didn't want. When it was purchased, I protested in what could graciously be called a hissy fit. We didn't need it. It was a useless extravagance. We weren't the kind of people who ate leftovers, anyway. We were young, fun, vivacious, out every night at a new joint with a new group of friends.

A pandemic, six or seven lockdowns, and a newborn baby later, the freezer is arguably much more vital to the smooth running of our household than I am.

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