Blame is hard enough to carry alone. What happens when the harm was caused by all of us—or in our name?
When a person harms another, we often know what to do. We seek an apology. We expect responsibility. We hope for change.
But when harm comes from a collective—a government, a company, a university, a nation—blame becomes less clear. The pain remains. The damage is real. But the questions grow murky:
- Who, exactly, is responsible?
- Should current members bear the weight of past wrongs?
- Can a group be “guilty,” even when individuals disagree?
In I Was Wrong: The Meanings of Apologies, philosopher Nick Smith explores this uneasy terrain—the moral dimensions of collective blame. He argues that for a collective apology to be meaningful, the group must not only express sorrow. It must also accept blame in a way that is morally coherent and just.
Because apology without blame is not an apology at all. It’s a performance.
And collective repair begins when we stop asking, “Was it me?” and start asking, “Was it us?”
The Paradox of Collective Blame
Blaming a group for harm is both necessary and fraught.
It is necessary—because many of the world’s deepest injustices were not the work of one person. They were the result of coordinated policies, systems, cultural norms, or institutional choices. Colonialism. Slavery. Environmental destruction. Religious abuse. These were collective acts, not individual crimes.
But collective blame is also fraught—because groups are made up of individuals. Some guilty. Some innocent. Some complicit. Some unaware. Some long dead.
So how do we assign blame without flattening complexity?
How do we hold “us” accountable when “we” includes people who weren’t there—or who opposed the harm?
Smith acknowledges these tensions. But he insists: collective blame is not collective guilt. It is collective responsibility.
It is not about punishing individuals. It is about acknowledging moral complicity, institutional benefit, and inherited obligations.
Understanding Collective Responsibility
To accept collective blame is to say:
- “We benefited from injustice, even if we didn’t cause it.”
- “We upheld systems of harm, even if we didn’t design them.”
- “We failed to act, even when we knew better.”
- “We represent institutions that caused damage, and we will not disown that legacy.”
This kind of responsibility does not assign equal blame to every member. But it recognizes that membership matters—in a nation, a church, a company, a culture.
And when that membership has granted privilege at someone else’s expense, the group has a moral obligation to speak—and to act.
Why We Resist Collective Blame
Collective blame makes many people uncomfortable. Understandably.
We want to believe in fairness. We don’t want to carry shame for actions we didn’t personally commit. And we fear that acknowledging collective blame will mean permanent condemnation.
But Smith reminds us: blame is not the end. It is the beginning.
It is the first honest step toward moral repair.
If we refuse blame entirely, we deny the harm.
If we accept it in name only, we diminish its meaning.
But if we embrace it carefully, thoughtfully, with humility, we can build trust.
We can say:
“We did wrong. And we are doing the work to live differently now.”
Collective Blame as a Moral Act
When a collective accepts blame:
- It honors the victims’ experience.
- It validates history.
- It opens the door to apology, redress, and reform.
- It helps individuals within the group confront uncomfortable truths.
- It strengthens moral accountability across time.
This is not weakness. It is ethical maturity.
It is what separates a society that denies the past from one that learns from it.
Real-World Examples of Collective Blame
Some powerful apologies have come with a full acceptance of collective blame:
- Germany’s ongoing responsibility for the Holocaust, publicly and structurally integrated into its national identity.
- Canada’s apology for Indigenous residential schools, which explicitly acknowledged institutional and societal roles.
- Religious institutions that have begun naming their own systemic abuses—not as isolated failures, but as embedded in their history and culture.
These are not just acknowledgments. They are claims of moral accountability. And they offer a template for others who still struggle to say: “Yes, it was us.”
Reflection Questions for Readers:
- How do you feel when you hear an apology made “on your behalf”? Defensiveness? Relief? Unease?
- What communities or institutions are you part of that may owe an apology to others?
- What would it mean to say: “I may not be guilty—but I am responsible.”
The Healing in Saying “We”
There is power in taking blame—not as individuals, but as collectives. Not because we seek shame, but because we seek justice.
When we say “we were wrong,” we reclaim something essential:
The belief that communities can be moral agents, not just moral bystanders.
The belief that we can learn, change, and rebuild what was broken.
The belief that history does not have to repeat itself—if we are brave enough to face it.
So let us not fear collective blame.
Let us use it.
Not to punish ourselves.
But to become a people who choose accountability over silence.