I was having dinner with friends when the conversation turned to social skills.

I was reminded of a man I know who has a knack for saying the wrong thing and offending people. Of course, there is no shortage of people like that walking around loose — heck, some days my marginal sense of humor offends at least one person for every hour that I’m awake. No, the interesting thing about this man is that, if his very life depended on it, I don’t believe he could say he was sorry.

It isn’t that he doesn’t know he has offended. In fact, I think he believes he has apologized a few times. But, “I’m sorry you took it that way” isn’t an apology — that’s actually blaming the injured party for being injured. Then there is, “I didn’t mean anything by it,” which is a little like saying, “I didn’t know the gun was loaded when I fired it at you, so it’s not my fault you’re bleeding.” And, “I’m sorry, but…” is my least favorite of the pseudo apologies. The word “but” in this context usually means “brace yourself — I’m about to rationalize like crazy.”

Sadly, this gentleman is not alone. I’m not even sure he’s in the minority. There are an awful lot of people nowadays who either don’t know what an apology is, or have decided they wouldn’t be caught dead making one.

I have been trying to make sense of this phenomenon for years. Part of it, I think, is our fear of being the bad guy. Admitting that we did something bone-headed, that caused another person pain, can so overwhelm us that we do the emotional equivalent of sticking our fingers in our ears and singing “Mary Had A Little Lamb.”

If we can remove our wrongness from the equation, then there’s no need for amends.

But there’s more to it than just fear. We live in a culture that often rewards us for NOT taking responsibility for our actions, and that is both sad and counterproductive. How can we take credit for the smart stuff we do if we can’t own up to the stupid stuff?

Here’s the thing: courtesies, such as the admission of faux pas, are skills. The cool thing about skills is that anyone can learn them. If we choose not to avail ourselves of such a worthwhile skill, then, in the moment at least, we are being jerks.

A person who doesn’t know how to say he’s sorry is doing a disservice to himself, perhaps even more than to the person he hurt. Nobody’s perfect, and I promise that, sooner or later, something you say or do is going to give offense (I know whereof I speak, having been the jerk in the scenario too many times to count). When that happens, you give the offendee and yourself a great gift by manning up (or womaning up, as the case may be) and saying “my bad.” Admitting you’re fallible is cutting yourself, and the rest of the world, some much-needed slack.

And consider this: An apology doesn’t make you inferior. On the contrary, it puts you in the driver’s seat. When you say, “I was out of line, and I’m sorry. I hope you will forgive me,” the other guy has only two choices: to graciously accept your apology and move on, or to act like a jerk himself. (This dilemma can make for some terrific living theatre; I have been known to apologize just to watch someone squirm — but that’s another column.)

All I’m saying is that it takes character to apologize, and I think we’d all rather have character than be characters. But I could be wrong — goodness knows it’s happened before.

So if I’ve stepped on any toes, I just want to say… (wait for it…) I’m sorry.

Marian Kelly is a television news producer, comedian and motivational speaker. Her Web site is www.mariankelly.com. She lives in Joplin.