Because you're treating a service-client relationship as an interpersonal relationship. They are not, and the same norms do not apply. That apology, and its implicit premise(s) and promise, is rooted in the norms of intimate, interpersonal relationships. Those do not apply.
When you screw up and ask your spouse's forgiveness, the psychosocial interaction is quite different from when a CEO fucks up, writes a mea culpa to the faceless masses, gets his draft looked over by a PR flack and a couple board members, and then sends it out to the highest-impact social media circles for his service and waits to see what his KPIs do.
I don't think this analogy is useful. An error in execution can be quite different in an error in judgement.
To offer an alternative example: a contractor decides to publish the source code to a company's closed-source software, so that they can use it as evidence of their work for their next job application.
> It’s argubly more like “sorry for being a moron, but I hear you. Please give us another chance”?
When these kinds of bad judgement happen, the person normally loses some decision-making power to stop it from happening again. This is in noticeable contrast to Triplebyte here: an apology as a PR exercise, and no material change to prevent it in future.
However much you'd like to, you can't just flip that trust back on - and in a lot of cases, it'll never fully go back to the way it was.
Not that we should personify company-customer relations - this was a decision that would have been taken by a lot of people expending serious effort to get it out the door. It's not a single lapse in judgement, but a continued expression of different values.
Why is this a hard thing to do? It’s literally what everyone who ever messes something up is asking you to do.
Just because someone once committed a broken build, doesn’t mean I’ll never again trust them with access.
It’s argubly more like “sorry for being a moron, but I hear you. Please give us another chance”?