When the Whole Is Responsible: Understanding Collective Causation and Moral Accountability

“I didn’t do it.”

“But did you benefit from it? Were you part of the system? Do you help it continue?”


Apologies are often built on a clear sequence: one person causes harm, another is hurt, and responsibility lies with the wrongdoer. But what if the harm wasn’t caused by one person—but by many?


What if the decisions, actions, or failures of an entire group—a nation, a government, a corporation, a culture—created suffering that no single person could have produced alone?


Welcome to the complex, urgent world of collective causation and collective moral responsibility.


In I Was Wrong: The Meanings of Apologies, philosopher Nick Smith asks us to take this seriously. Because many of the gravest harms in history—slavery, colonization, systemic racism, genocide, environmental destruction—were not individual acts. They were collective efforts, built and maintained over time, by groups of people acting together.


If we want to live in a just world, we must learn how to hold not only individuals—but collectives—morally accountable.




What Is Collective Causation?


Collective causation means that harm was caused not by one person, but by a group—through coordinated action, shared policies, cultural norms, or institutional structures.


It includes:


  • A legislature passing unjust laws
  • A company profiting from exploitative practices
  • A society tolerating discrimination
  • A religious institution protecting abusers
  • An entire community remaining silent in the face of known harm



No single individual may have caused the harm on their own. But together, they created it. Maintained it. Benefited from it.


And that means the group itself bears responsibility.




Why This Feels Uncomfortable—and Why We Must Face It


Many people resist the idea of collective responsibility. It feels unfair. Why should someone today be held accountable for harm committed before they were born? Why should a junior employee carry the blame for decisions made by a corporate board decades ago?


But Smith reminds us: collective moral responsibility is not about assigning personal guilt. It’s about acknowledging moral complicity, benefit, and continuity.


You may not have committed the harm—but:


  • Did you inherit wealth, status, or opportunity because others were excluded or exploited?
  • Are you part of a group that continues to deny or downplay its role?
  • Do you support institutions that have yet to make amends?



If the answer is yes, then you are connected.

And connection brings responsibility.


Not for what you personally did. But for what your collective has done, and still refuses to repair.




How Collective Moral Responsibility Works


Smith identifies key conditions under which groups can be held morally responsible:


  1. Shared identity — The group sees itself as a unit (e.g., a nation, church, corporation).
  2. Coordinated action or policy — The harm came from deliberate, structured behavior.
  3. Enduring legacy — The group or its successors still exist, and still benefit.
  4. Moral awareness — The harm is known, or should be known, and the group is capable of acting on that knowledge.



In these cases, collective apology becomes not just appropriate—but essential.


It says:


“This harm was not an accident. It was a product of who we were—and who, in some ways, we still are.”


And it begins the slow, difficult process of change.




Real-World Examples


  • Germany continues to offer public acknowledgment and financial reparations for its role in the Holocaust, based on a clear understanding of collective moral responsibility.
  • Canadian churches and government have issued collective apologies for their roles in Indigenous residential schools, where policies were enforced for generations.
  • Universities like Georgetown and Harvard are beginning to reckon with their historical ties to slavery—not because current faculty or students are guilty, but because the institution still benefits from past injustice.



These are not perfect efforts. But they model what it looks like for collectives to say:

“We were part of this. We still carry its legacy. And we are accountable.”




Why This Matters for Apology—and for Justice


If collectives can cause harm, they must also be capable of apologizing, repairing, and reforming.


Without collective responsibility, apology is reduced to isolated gestures—symbolic but disconnected from real power.


With it, apology becomes a tool for:


  • Structural change
  • Educational truth-telling
  • Community healing
  • Intergenerational accountability



And for those harmed, it offers something even deeper: validation. The acknowledgment that their pain was not personal failure, but systemic harm—and that it is finally being recognized.




Reflection Questions for Readers:


  • Are you part of any institution, community, or nation that may owe an apology for past or ongoing harm?
  • Have you ever benefited—consciously or not—from structures built on the suffering of others?
  • What would it mean to say, “This isn’t just their problem. It’s ours. And we’re ready to face it together”?





Apologizing Together, Changing Together


The truth is: most of the harm that breaks our world is not caused by monsters. It’s caused by systems. Norms. Structures. Groups.


That means our healing must also be collective.


We must learn how to apologize together.

How to listen together.

How to change—not just as individuals, but as a people.


Because only then can we say, with integrity:


“We didn’t just grieve the harm.

We understood our role in it.

And we chose to make it right—together.”