Sorry, not sorry: Why brands shouldn't treat apologies as a trend

It starts like a crisis. A clean graphic. A sombre tone. A carefully worded apology. Except, this time, the brand isn’t saying sorry for a data breach, a tone-deaf ad, or a product failure. It’s apologising for being “too delicious”, “too popular”, or “too hard to resist”.

The rise of the “fake apology” post has swept across social feeds in recent months, with brands leaning into the visual language of reputational damage to generate engagement. It’s a format that feels familiar, dramatic and instantly clickable and that’s precisely why it works. Kelvin Kao, founder and CEO of creative and social agency PROTOCOL, puts it bluntly: “The best social content starts with a strong hook, and nothing hooks like the hint of controversy."

He adds:

A ‘fake apology’ instantly suggests drama, wrongdoing, or a public reckoning; It scratches the same itch as clickbait, but with a wink.

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That wink is what keeps it playful rather than perilous - at least for now. In an attention economy dominated by outrage and scandal, the apology format delivers instant narrative tension. Audiences recognise the structure before they even read the copy.

As Beatnk’s founder Tanner Nagib explains, “Everyone has seen a brand apology before, so when a brand uses that serious tone to talk about something harmless as being ‘too popular’ or ‘too delicious’, it creates an instant contrast. People stop scrolling because they recognise the structure, and they enjoy being in on the joke.”

The creative high, and the timing trap

But as quickly as the format spreads, agency leaders warn it can just as easily wear thin. Kao argues the difference between clever and cringe comes down to two things: Timing and execution.

"Timing because these formats have a short half-life. Being early makes you clever; being late makes you derivative. Execution because the tone needs to feel true to the brand. When the writing is sharp, confident, and genuinely self-aware, it lands. When it feels like it’s trying too hard, it falls flat," says Kao. He likens the trend to early-era "Ogilvy style of copy-driven wit" where "everything hinges on the writing." 

From a social perspective, the upside is undeniable. According to Nagib, these posts earn fast engagement because they are simple, relatable and build for sharing. Still, he cautions against blind participation: 

If a brand pushes irony too far, it makes it harder to shift back into a serious tone if a real issue happens. The blind spot isn’t the trend itself; it’s the reflex to join in without asking whether the tone actually fits the brand.

When humour collides with reputation

From a PR lens, the same mechanics that drive engagement also create reputational friction. Trion & Co co-founder and chief strategy officer Charu Srivastava describes the format as “fascinating to analyse from a communications and reputation perspective” but adds that she's not a fan as it relies entirely on mimicking the look of a crisis announcement to grab attention.

For Srivastava, the danger lies in reframing failure as flex. “We have been conditioned to expect an apology from an organisation as a signal of failure. By hijacking that visual language to deliver a 'humblebrag' -apologising for being too popular or too good - brands trigger an immediate 'stop the scroll' reaction, but with a negative expectation.”

She adds that while the bait-and-switch works for attention, using panic as an engagement tactic feels like a short-sighted play that is rife with pitfalls. The most immediate risk is audience sentiment backfiring in real time.

“A fake apology opens the door for criticism if there is valid, underlying unhappiness among your customer base,” Srivastava warns. “The joke won't land if you fake apologise for 'selling out too fast' while you have a comments section full of people complaining about shipping delays or poor service. Instead, it will ignite a backlash.”

There’s also a longer-term danger to brand credibility. Srivastava explains that gamifying the apology format dilute its gravity and sincerity, adding that if a brand trains its audience to view solemn statements as marketing stunts, the brand may face deep skepticism or apathy when it inevitably have to issue a real apology for a serious issue. 

That “Boy who cried wolf” risk is echoed across agencies MARKETING-INTERACTIVE spoke to. Mad Hat Asia founder and managing director Rengeeta Rendava notes that while drama stops thumbs in the feed, real apologies are important moments of authenticity and vulnerability, and they should be honoured as such.

“There’s a dangerously thin line between a mock apology and something that comes across as mocking the idea of apologising, and if the brand ever does need to issue a proper apology, how different will it look and sound?" says Rendava. 

Nagib agrees the format isn’t the danger, but misuse is, adding that “the blind spot isn’t the trend itself; it’s the reflex to join in without asking whether the tone actually fits the brand.”

This is where brand health becomes non-negotiable. As Srivastava puts it:

You cannot deploy irony if your reputation isn't solid. Brands must ensure their 'trust bank' is full enough to make a withdrawal in the form of a prank. If the audience doesn't already love you, they won't laugh with you.

So, who does this trend actually work for?

Across the board, agency leaders point to brands with playful personalities, strong communities and a culturally expressive voice. This may include lifestyle, beauty, youth-leaning or culturally expressive brands. 

They added that brands in more serious or trust-heavy categories such as organisations wtih public responsibility, government agencies, utilities and statuary boards should tread carefully. This is especially since the 'fake apology' trend lands best when there is no ambiguity about the stakes. 

Rendava sums it up simply: “It definitely can (and has) worked, especially for brands with a strong, vocal fan base, an already playful personality and copywriting rooted in solid product truth.”

For now, the format continues to outperform because it taps into a contradictory human instinct - the attraction to both scandal and satire. But with every brand that joins the bandwagon, the novelty erodes a little faster. As Srivastava cautions, “What was clever for the first three brands becomes annoying and derivative for the fiftieth.”

The verdict across the agency world is not that fake apologies are inherently wrong, but that they are dangerously easy to misuse. Cute, clickable and culturally fluent when done with intention. Risky, tone-deaf and reputation-eroding when done on autopilot.

Or as Rendava puts it: “Cute trend, but to my clients I’d proceed with caution. There are other ways to communicate your brand truth.”

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