I'M sorry about this, but what follows is another newspaper column on the subject of apologising.

The topic has been everywhere over the past few days, hasn't it?

There was David Beckham admitting to something not very sporting and then apologising once he realised he'd landed himself in trouble.

There was MP and Spectator editor Boris Johnson being ordered to go to Liverpool and apologise for offending practically everyone there.

And then there was the apology which Tony Blair may or may not have offered for the whole weapons of mass destruction thing.

As a result of all this, it seems you've hardly been able to switch on the radio or TV lately without hearing an item about apologies, invariably set to Elton John's hit Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word.

(Incidentally, does anybody think it's about time Sir Elton apologised for reworking that song with the connivance of Blue? Pop stars can be forgiven for being past their prime, but Elton seems to be intent on systematically destroying his own back catalogue, what with that one and Candle in the Wind '97.)

Now, the word "sorry" is supposed to be an immensely powerful and healing thing.

So why does it so often fail to convince people?

Like most parents, I think I know a little bit about apologies.

That's because I am constantly having to force them out of two small boys when I'm refereeing an argument. So here are my personal tips on how to frame an apology.

1. Make it clear. Tony Blair told his party: "I can apologise for the information that turned out to be wrong, but I can't, sincerely at least, apologise for removing Saddam." The trouble was, this left people scratching their heads. Was he saying sorry or wasn't he?

Still, I might be tempted to use the Tony Blair style of apology at home. "I can apologise for not cleaning the bathroom, but I can't apologise for having done the laundry and the ironing."

2. Mean it. When my four-year-old apologises for being horrible to his brother, we both know why he's doing it: because if he doesn't get that apology out quick, he's going to spend a few minutes standing in the hall reflecting on what he's done.

Similarly, when David Beckham apologised for deliberately getting himself booked, we all suspected he was only really sorry that he'd owned up to it. And surely if Boris Johnson hadn't intended to insult Liverpool, he wouldn't have allowed those words into his magazine in the first place.

3. Get that apology in quickly. If you own up to the offence before anyone calls you on it, you're surely going to stand a much better chance of being believed.

4. Don't add a "but". Public figures tend to accompany their retractions with an insistence that their words have been misconstrued. It's tantamount to saying: "I didn't do anything wrong, but I'm sorry you're too thick to realise that."

5. Make the apology meaningful. When Bill Clinton apologised for slavery, it struck me as a bit hollow.

After all, it happened a long time before he was born, and surely apologies are better left for things for which we could be held personally responsible.

What's more, it seems to me that some misdeeds are so big that any apology is inadequate. When the current Pope apologised for the "shameful injustices" done to indigenous peoples in the Pacific regions, or when France apologised for the activities of the Vichy regime, how were the recipients of these apologies supposed to react?

Should they have said: "Ah, thanks, but forget it. To be honest, we were pretty miffed at the time, but it's all water under the bridge."?

I'm afraid such apologies just won't do. But if any of the above has offended anyone... well, I meant it, so I'm not sorry at all.