The door is kicked open and the student half falls, half walks through, still shouting at some unseen person in the corridor. The previously silent pupils in the class are now a captivated audience, their work forgotten. Twenty-nine pairs of eyes are flicking between the student and the teacher to see what is going to happen next.

The door slams closed and the student slumps into his chair. The teacher moves to the side of the desk, crouches down and lowers his voice.

“The lesson started 16 minutes ago,” begins the teacher. “The first thing you should -”

“I’m sorry,” the student interrupts, unpacking his bag, eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the desk.

Silence. The teacher is torn; unsatisfied by the student’s response but unwilling to allow this distraction to continue any longer, he eventually stands and gives an ostentatious cough, then continues the lesson.

No matter how old the pupil, “sorry” is often seen as the moral end point in so many behaviour incidents in schools. Two four-year-olds fighting over playing with a toy truck? An eight-year-old trying out a slightly out-of-context “fuck off” at a friend? A 13-year-old persistently disrupting lessons with crude jokes? A 15-year-old who has once again failed to hand in homework?

Say “sorry”, we demand: show us some remorse - only then can we move on.

If only it were that simple.

All apologies

Why has the act of an apology become so central to what happens in schools? Because conflict is an inevitable and frequent part of school life, and an apology is an integral part of conflict resolution.

Luke Roberts, a conflict resolution expert and PhD candidate at the University of Cambridge, believes you will find conflict wherever you find groups of people.

“Even when you have groups where they share values or know each other’s history, when you are presented with challenges to beliefs, values or processes, people will have opinions,” he argues.

Schools, then, will always be hotbeds of conflict, whether explicit or hidden. However, the suppression of conflict shouldn’t be the goal of teachers, says Roberts. Disagreements, friction, cross words - none of these things, he explains, is unhealthy: “People see conflict as a bad thing and it’s not. It’s how you go about managing conflict that is important.”

This is where apologies come in. Alfred Allan, lecturer in psychology at Edith Cowan University in Western Australia and co-author of the paper “An Emerging Theory of Apology”, explains how saying “sorry” has long been a key tool in conflict resolution and thus, a fundamental factor in social cohesion and human progress.

“Hunter-gatherers lived in groups and it wasn’t just the fittest individual to survive, it was the fittest group,” he says. “Therefore, it was important to be a cohesive group and, to be a cohesive group, they established unwritten rules to aid cooperation.”

Central to these rules was the need for forgiveness in order for a relationship to move forwards, he explains. “And one of the ways to help forgiveness is an apology.”

The feeling of a need to apologise and the sense that you are owed an apology are found throughout the world, he reveals. And recent research backs up the importance of saying “sorry” in the resolution process, according to Karina Schumann, a postdoctoral fellow working with Carol Dweck at Stanford University in the US.

Schumann has focused her work on identifying factors that help people successfully manage conflicts. “An apology is one of the most powerful ways to lead to a resolution,” she says. “Apologies have been shown to be the glue that holds together our social relationships.”

So those in schools will regularly encounter conflict and an apology should be central to the resolution process. We’re getting it right: where’s the problem?

Well, there are a few of them.

The first issue is that the situations in which - and strength of feeling when - people feel the need to apologise, or believe they are owed an apology, can be hugely variable between individuals.

Luke Chang, assistant professor of psychological and brain sciences at Dartmouth, an Ivy League research college in the US, has been researching the mental “fingerprint” of emotions using brain imaging. While this area of research is in its early stages and findings are tentative, there is evidence of many variables affecting which emotions are at play in situations where an apology may be required, and how strong those feelings might be.

“Some people care more about the guilt, [others] about the fairness,” he explains. “We’ve done research where we compare reactions with a person you know versus a stranger, and the responses vary depending on the dynamics of the relationship.”

Those emotions are also influenced by individual value systems: what one person finds offensive, and to what degree and in what context, will differ from the next person.

Allan argues that, even within groups where you would think that, culturally, there would be shared values, there will often be differences. “We have personal values and then the morals of the group,” he explains. “You might share values but you won’t necessarily find the same things offensive.”

So, in a class of 30 students, expecting every student to agree with you or each other on when an apology needs to be offered is not as simple as it first seems. Quite simply, “sorry” might not be forthcoming because the pupil has no idea that the situation demands it.

Mentalise this

Connected to this is that being able to recognise the need for an apology requires a person to have the ability to imagine a mind that is different from their own. This skill is sometimes called “mentalising”, where you appreciate that people can view the same situation in different ways. Mentalising is a key part of empathy and therefore a crucial element of the steps required to judge when an apology is needed.

The ability to do this at a very basic level can be assessed using the Sally-Anne false belief test. The test poses a simple question: “Sally has placed an item in a concealed place, which is then moved without her knowledge by Anne. Where will Sally will look for the object?”

The correct answer - “where she left it” - is usually given by the age of about four among the majority of neurotypical children. However, a child’s ability to pass the test, and to successfully “mentalise”, can be impacted by special educational needs such as autism, and also by attachment.

“If you are securely attached, then it is likely that you are quicker at passing the Sally-Anne test, and you are more aware of the person as a person,” says Peter Fonagy, head of psychology and language sciences at University College London.

This is because, when a parent is able to form a secure attachment to their child, they will raise the child as a person who has different thoughts and feelings from their own, Fonagy explains. This, in turn, enables the child to imagine other people as having different thoughts and feelings from their own.

How many children are in the education system with undiagnosed autism? How many have hidden trauma, which may affect attachment? Far more than we would like to admit - knowledge and understanding of trauma is often very poor and the under-diagnosis of girls with autism, in particular, is a persistent issue. For these pupils, apologies can be extremely problematic.

The problem with apologies, though, is often not with the person who should deliver one, but the person asking for one. If a teacher or classmate demands an apology at a point directly after an incident, or if it is demanded in a certain way, then it is likely to be a waste of time. This is because the emotions of the child will be too heightened and, thus, their ability to appreciate the different perceptions of others and judge the need for an apology will be impaired.

“We have something we call the Yerkes-Dodson Law, where the efficiency of performing anything increases with arousal. The more interested you are, the better the performance,” explains Fonagy. “However, when your arousal is pushed high enough, another bit of the brain that is involved with fight-flight kicks in, and this is the point where performance decreases. It is as if there is a switch point in your brain.

“In a classroom situation, where you are faced with a child who is misbehaving, and you shout at the child - in that child’s brain, what you have done is push their arousal up too high and switched their mentalising off. Any chance you had of reasoning with that child has gone.”

Essentially, if the incident itself - or your reaction to it as a teacher - pushes a child beyond the “switch point”, an apology is unlikely to happen or, if it does, it’s unlikely to be genuine.

The moment where you finally reach that switch point varies from person to person. And it changes over time: typically a person becomes able to tolerate more stimulation the older they are.

“The prefrontal cortex (the part of the brain that copes with the stimulation) matures, and it takes until about the age of 25 to fully mature,” explains Fonagy. “However, during adolescence it takes a dip. That’s why, sometimes, people say that teenagers behave like toddlers - it’s hyperbole, but there is some truth in it.”

If all this was not enough, there are much simpler complications relating to the apology. For example, some children have just never been taught how to do it. When you break an apology down, it is actually quite a skilled social interaction: what to say, how to say it and when, coupled with the right body language - it’s complex.

And then there is another issue, one many teachers will recognise: sometimes the child knows full well they should apologise and knows how to do it, but they simply decide not to.

Changing your mind(set)

Schumann, however, would contend that this is not as simple as you might think. She has found there is a connection between your mindset and your willingness to take responsibility in conflict.

“If you have a malleable mindset, you’re more likely to offer an apology because you see this as an opportunity to fix the relationship,” says Schumann. “When you see personality as something that can develop and you can work on and grow, it feels less threatening to take responsibility … You see this as an opportunity for growth, both for personal growth and relational growth. So [these children are] more willing to look this thing in the eye and confront it.”

Where you are more fixed in your mindset, she says, an apology is less likely to be forthcoming because taking responsibility is a huge threat to their sense of self. Yes, the “sorry” does not arrive because the pupil does not want to give it, but there is a reason behind it that is worth, in Schumann’s view, exploring - not least because these children can be supported to switch their mindset.

“The good news is that research suggests that mindsets themselves are changeable,” she explains, citing the work of Dweck.

“So belief about changeability can be changed. These things are habitual, these are our mindsets; you can train yourself to have a growth mindset across different domains.” (It is worth noting here that Dweck’s growth mindset research has been under intense scrutiny over the past few years, with studies showing no impact of mindset interventions and some yielding more positive results.)

Where does all the above leave the act of apology in schools? In any given behaviour situation, all of the above is a lot to process in the moment. So, are apologies so hard to get right that they become a waste of time and we should ditch them?

The short answer is no: as stated earlier, saying “sorry” is crucial to conflict resolution. So, instead of ditching it, we just need to get better at facilitating it.

First, that means not assuming that every child knows how to apologise as a result of instruction by parents. That requires explicit teaching and modelling of apologies in school but there is some disagreement about how that is best done.

Allan believes it should not mean dictating or forcing a specific structured apology but rather giving children the knowledge about apologies and letting them, through experience, develop their own approach.

“With children, you need to focus on why we apologise and let them find their own way,” he explains. “It’s about it being genuine rather than word perfect.”

Amrisha Vaish, assistant professor of psychology at the University of Virginia, takes a slightly different stance.

“Politeness routines need to be taught,” says Vaish. “Children need to be taught to say ‘sorry’, so although the conscience and feelings are there earlier, they need to have the words modelled to them.”

Resolution through role play

For those with special educational needs and disabilities (SEND), particularly autism, who may struggle with apologies because of the issues around mentalising laid out earlier, the teaching may need to be more specific.

Elizabeth Laugeson, assistant clinical professor in the Department of Psychiatry and Biobehavioral Sciences at the University of California Los Angeles’ Semel Institute for Neuroscience and Human Behavior, runs a research-informed programme to help autistic children with social skills. Part of this programme looks at conflict resolution.

“Autistic students can struggle with putting themselves in someone else’s shoes and seeing things from their point of view,” she explains.

In her programme, they try to overcome this issue by training their autistic students in a methodical approach to conflict resolution and apologies. Laugeson sets out six steps that the students have to take and, working with schools and parents, they role-play these conversations and practise with the children.

“The final step is where you try to solve the problem,” she says. “And you need that step because there has been a rupture in the trust, and you need to reassure the person that you are going to behave differently next time.”

Alongside this explicit teaching, what most agree upon is that relationships are crucial to the apology process.

Where a relationship between student and teacher is strong, you are - perhaps surprisingly - more likely to experience conflict but you are also more likely to get a genuine resolution through an apology.

“If you look at where kids have tantrums, it’s mostly with their own parents,” explains Fonagy. “They feel safe and you don’t need to think so much. You take things for granted.”

Fonagy gives the example of a student who has a good relationship with the teacher but is misbehaving in a lesson following an incident at lunchtime.

“That student feels as if they can have a tantrum in that classroom because they feel safe with that teacher,” explains Fonagy.

What follows, though, is much more likely to be a genuine resolution. “Afterwards, they’re able to give a real sincere apology and reflect on their behaviour because they have a good attachment with the teacher and can do the ‘mentalising’ and self-reflection needed to actually adjust their behaviour in the future,” says Fonagy.

And when the relationship is weaker?

“When you have a teacher who has a poor attachment to the class and a student misbehaves, and then gives a reflex apology, or parrots an apology without thinking about it - then the teacher feels unsatisfied and so does the student,” says Fonagy. “The teacher and the student will develop what we call a ‘pretend mode’ and this is a form of insecure attachment. What occurs is a separation from reality: I don’t do as I feel. The student might feel disappointed, sad, unresolved, but what they’re doing is saying sorry.”

Basically, rather than sorry facilitating a resolution, the conflict is arguably worse (though now “hidden”). And this can have a knock-on long-term effect.

“Consequently, the teacher will have a superficial relationship with that student. That student will never be able to tell the teacher that they have been bullied or the reason behind their bad behaviour. The student will expect to be told off and told to say sorry. They won’t expect the teacher to ask what happened or show interest in that child, and care about them as a person, as you would do with a teacher who you have a good attachment with.”

Is it too late now to say sorry?

But explicit teaching and modelling of apologies, and having enough time to build close relationships with pupils, is arguably easier in primary and alternative provision settings than in secondary schools, where contact time with students is much less. In these classrooms, some argue that, actually, ditching a focus on the apology part of the process may be the best option.

Dorian Coxon is head of pastoral support at Orchard School in Bristol. He argues that restorative discussions can act as a suture for the wound between the teacher and the student. Students talk through what led up to the incident, what happened to cause them to be removed from class, and then they consider the wider impact upon the teacher, their fellow students, themselves - and then look at what they must do in the future to stop it happening again.

An apology isn’t insisted on, but many students, once going through this process, will give one unprompted anyway.

Coxon argues that really, the word “sorry” has very little meaning at all.

“Insisting on apologies just teaches students that saying sorry will get them out of anything, and that isn’t teaching them the right thing,” he argues.

But these conversations are not easy. Restorative approaches have been the subject of frequent criticism by teachers on social media, with a belief that pupils are given an easy option.

Roberts has done extensive work in this area and believes the horror stories are usually the result of the approach simply not being done properly. For example, the “wronged” person (in many cases the teacher) should not be leading the process.

“The problem with conflict resolution in schools is that, often, the person who has been wronged is also trying to facilitate the apology. Because the teacher has more power in that relationship, asking a student to take part in a restorative conversation, when the person leading that process is also the person who has been harmed in that process, is problematic.

“A student, who may not be very articulate, is going up against a teacher who is telling them what they want from this situation. Then that student will not be able to satisfactorily advocate for themselves.”

Coxon adds that, in order to get this right, teachers need extensive and continual training.

“We continually deliver rolling CPD on how to do a restorative conversation. We need discussions about the nuances of behaviour management because we’re humans, not systems.”

Should this approach be at work in all school settings? Is this the alternative to apologies that we have been looking for?

It’s not time to throw out the apology just yet. If the preparation, modelling and understanding of the individual is in place, then getting them to say “sorry” can still work - as long you recognise there will be times when disagreement over whether an apology is necessary will be likely.

But what if the school day is just too busy to make sure these things are addressed? Then my apologies, but it seems demanding a “sorry” may well do more harm than good.

Grainne Hallahan is senior content writer at Tes. She tweets @heymrshallahan

This article originally appeared in the 4 October 2019 issue under the headline “‘Sorry’ seems to be the hardest word”