Why is it hard for Corporate India to say ‘Sorry’?

All the HR rules, SOPs, and committees are mere formalities unless a culture of respect and empathy is deeply ingrained in every corner of an organisation.

When a 26-year-old EY Pune employee died from apparent work stress, her mother’s anguish revealed more than just a personal tragedy. Her now-viral letter to EY India leader asks all that is missing in a corporate culture that, at its core, seems unable — or unwilling — to address the very human consequences of relentless pressure.

Instead of a public apology or heartfelt acknowledgement of the loss, we are once again confronted with a wall of silence. What does this say about corporate responsibility today? More importantly, why are companies so reluctant to simply say, ‘We are sorry’?

In the corporate world, is humility perceived as a weakness? Is it because an apology could be seen as an admission of guilt that could potentially escalate legal liabilities? But in moments of human loss, particularly when it involves an employee, the calculus needs to change. Leaders and organisations need to understand that an apology does not just signal culpability — it signals empathy. 

It also reminds us of another aloof behaviour episode: when the senior officials of a large Indian conglomerate which was embroiled in a bitter legal dispute with its former chairman were conspicuous by their absence at his funeral, despite his tragic death at a young age. Such an absence at such a solemn occasion speaks volumes about how modern corporates navigate relationships when strained by conflict or legal considerations. What is the point about claiming governance and empathy as core values, when we are so consumed by ego and risk assessments that we have lost sight of the basic tenets of humanity?

In a culture where offering condolences, attending funerals, and showing up for those moments that ignore professional or personal disputes should be paramount, this growing coldness raises questions about the moral compass of our corporate world. Are we prioritising legal defence strategies over human decency? Or have we grown so insulated in boardrooms that we have forgotten the people behind the profit margins?

Corporate humility cannot be just a public relations or social media exercise, even if many do attempt it. It should rather be a recognition that businesses are fundamentally social institutions, relying on people — employees, customers, and stakeholders — for their very existence.

The knee-jerk fear that an apology will open the floodgates to lawsuits or negative press is misplaced. The public — and more importantly, the people affected — can differentiate between a heartfelt apology and legal responsibility. There are ways to communicate care without incriminating oneself. But failing to communicate altogether? That creates a lasting scar.

Perhaps the fear of admitting fault is so deeply ingrained in corporate culture that we have abandoned basic human values in favour of legalese and polished statements. When a young employee like Anna Sebastian Perayil loses her life to the stress of her job, what she leaves behind is not just her family’s grief but a haunting question: How much do we really care about the people who drive our profits? The answer is apparent in how we choose to respond.

In our relentless pursuit of wealth and market share, we often forget that true success cannot be measured by profits alone, but by the human cost we are willing to ignore in its wake. All the HR rules, SOPs, and committees are mere formalities unless a culture of respect and empathy is deeply ingrained in every corner of the organisation.

This broader pattern of avoidance across the corporate spectrum — from employee deaths to personal grievances to toxic culture to bad bosses — does more than just damage reputations. It creates a culture where people feel dispensable, where loyalty is a one-way street, and where the value of life is measured against potential legal repercussions. That, ultimately, is a failure of leadership.

Corporations need to rethink their moral responsibility. Saying ‘we’re sorry’ may feel fraught with legal complexities, but it is a necessary step in bridging the gap between cold corporate policies and warm human relationships. Leaders who shy away from acknowledging the humanity of their employees — whether in life or in death — are leading with short-term thinking. But then, popularly as we know, in the long term, we are all gone.

The public, stakeholders, and employees are not just passive observers — they are the ones who sustain these companies. Corporates need to stop viewing empathy as a liability and start seeing it as a strength. In a world increasingly driven by profit margins and risk management, it’s time to recalibrate our moral compasses. Because sometimes, a simple apology is the most human, and powerful, thing we can offer. 

The inability to say sorry reveals the fragility of humanity, where success is narrowly measured by wealth, not wisdom. Even five-sense animals display more empathy than six-sensed humans, reminding us that true strength lies not in accumulation, but in compassion.

It's time for Corporate India to realise that learning to say sorry is not about weakness—it's about leadership.

(Srinath Sridharan is a policy researcher and corporate adviser. X: @ssmumbai. Lloyd Mathias is a business strategist and angel investor. X: @LloydMathias.)

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the authors' own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.