The British government’s standard approach to the reparations question has been what might be called the engineered non-apology: a carefully constructed statement that acknowledges the moral wrong, expresses genuine-sounding emotion, but stops precisely short of the language of apology or liability. Tony Blair’s 2006 statement describing slavery as a “crime against humanity” but stopping short of a formal apology was the template. Subsequent governments have refined the formula but maintained the same basic structure.
The engineering is visible in the word choices. “Deep sorrow” rather than “apology.” “Acknowledging the legacy” rather than “accepting responsibility.” “Committed to addressing” rather than “obligated to remedy.” Each formulation is calibrated by lawyers to express the maximum apparent sympathy while creating the minimum legal exposure. The result satisfies nobody and convinces nobody.
Reparations advocates correctly point out that “deep sorrow” is not an apology and commits Britain to nothing. Critics of the reparations campaign correctly point out that the language implies something is owed without having the honesty to say what. The government has produced the worst outcome: it looks guilty without being honest about its actual position. A government confident in its position would say what it actually believes rather than performing carefully managed anguish.
