The Do-Over

On typos, mistakes, mess ups, and other acts of being human

Photo by Brett Jordan

I recently replied to the post of a well-known author on Substack. A couple of days afterward, after another reader had replied to my reply, I noticed a typo. I had written “are” for “our.” Oh, for God sake. Of course I know the difference. Of course I know better. I laughingly replied to the reply and fixed it. Still, I had a hard time forgiving myself for this simple, dumb, fully human mistake.

I have always been a terrible self-editor/proofreader. (That’s why this Substack newsletter is edited by someone other than me. If you see a typo here, blame him.) Left on my own, I am bound to produce at least one typo, one mistake, one misspelling, one (or two) missed or erroneous commas. Ask the editors at my publishers. Thank goodness they are better at this than I am.

This most recent lapse, however, led me to think more closely about mistakes, mistakes in a society that is quick to point out our flaws but yet continually reminds us that we are “all human,” and that mistakes are a part of life, only to insist that we must aim for perfection.

I’m on the golf course with friends the other day. It’s a group that regularly takes “Mulligans.” If you are not familiar, a “Mulligan” in golf is a do-over. You hit a bad shot, you throw down another ball and try it again and do not count the flubbed shot as a stroke. There is no “Mulligan” in the official rules of golf. It’s a friendly-game element that has been readily accepted mainly because the game is hard. I regularly do not take a “Mulligan” with this group or any time when I play. Although, admittedly, I have occasionally. Still, I avoid this when I can. If I have a good day on the course and post a good score and I’ve done so with a Mulligan or two during that round, well, that score is now tainted.

But here’s the thing . . .

What does it matter if I take a Mulligan or not?

It matters to me. It matters to the truthfulness of the game. It matters to my psyche. I don’t begrudge anyone who takes a Mulligan. But for me, pretending the mistake didn’t happen kind of haunts me. Not taking the Mulligan, I would suggest, is a form of acceptance of that bad shot, but it’s also a vehicle for hiding it.

Think of that typo—the “are” instead of “our.” My returning to that mistake is, in essence, a kind of Mulligan, isn’t it? An acceptance of it. I’m certainly not hiding from it when I openly correct the mistake and own up to it.

We are all familiar with that one friend, family member, or co-worker who never admits they are wrong, who never says “my bad.” Almost universally, they are scorned. Admitting our humanness is a likable, even revered trait. Pretending to be perfect, and certainly believing that you are, is most always looked down upon.

But when we make our own mistakes, many of us tend to beat ourselves up about them. We are reluctant, sometimes unable to forgive ourselves. Sometimes we try to run from the mistake, or pretend it never happened, or, worst of all, blame it on someone else. No matter how we face it, the “never apologize” approach is not a good strategy.

A recent study on the effects of denying wrongdoing on the part of the offender shows that denial actually increases the self-esteem of the offender, giving them a sense of power and control. It’s an alluring possibility. Don’t admit your mistakes, and you feel better about yourself. Why then would anyone ever admit a mistake if you receive a self-esteem boost? The answer is simple. If you continually avoid culpability, you will lose the trust of those around you. Trust of your friends, family, co-workers, partner. Never admit the typo or take five Mulligans a round, and one’s standing in the world begins to crumble. This goes for everyone. Our golf partners, our life partners, or the leader of the Free World. Certainly, a lot has been written about that in the last few days.

In essence, not accepting mistakes as part of the process of any undertaking is a sign of our fear of failure. Being insecure about mistakes is a form of self-doubt. We’ve all heard the chants: Learn from your mistakes. Mistakes lead us to being better. Mistakes are human. So why don’t we always embrace those mistakes, accept them, and move on? I officiated at my younger son’s wedding. I screwed up the scheduling at the ceremony and pronounced them married before the rest of the ceremony was complete. My son laughs about it. I cringe. Still to this day, several years later, I can’t fully forgive myself. In the end, it was not a big deal. Many attending, I’m certain, never fully noticed. But for me, there’s a big red pencil mark circled around that date.

What we need is to give ourselves and others some grace for the flub, the gaff, the typo, the missed opportunity, the the goof-up, and yes, even the Mulligan. There’s magic in the mistake. If we reframe it and own it, the mistake can be a path to accepting our vulnerability. And accepting vulnerability leads to a richer existence. This also means accepting and forgiving others who have made mistakes. Even the biggest ones. We are not our mistakes, and neither is anyone else.

And remember—always right, is always wong.

Ah, sorry, that should be wrong, of course. My bad.