Kanye West Said Sorry. Does He Mean It This Time?

“I miss the old Kanye,” Kanye West once said. 

With a 44-second track released almost exactly a decade ago, the hip-hop artist now known as Ye made it clear he was in on the joke. In “I Love Kanye,” he parroted his own critics, rapping: “I hate the new Kanye, the bad mood Kanye … I miss the sweet Kanye, chop up the beats Kanye.” The song was an indictment of you, the listener, for holding onto the era of pink polo shirts and chipmunk soul samples, refusing to let your favorite artist evolve.

But since 2016, the song has become a dark, twisted, self-fulfilling prophecy.

Ye went from the globally celebrated, singular artistic talent who redefined hip-hop to a conspiracy-peddling schmuck who sold swastika T-shirts, surrounded himself with neo-Nazis and released “Heil Hitler,” a song that was banned from streaming services but became catnip for extremist provocateurs. He had also suggested slavery was a “choice” and donned a shirt with the white supremacist slogan “White Lives Matter.” It was devastating to watch the man who famously proclaimed on live TV that “George Bush doesn’t care about Black people” transform into an icon of the alt-right.

Never mind the fact that as Ye plummeted into a downward spiral, so too did the quality of his music. Growing up, “The College Dropout” and “Graduation” were like gospel to me. I tend to separate the art from the artist, but I can’t pretend “Donda 2” is the second coming of “Yeezus.”

So, the thing is, I do miss the old Kanye. And I miss the artist who was, in 2016, considered the new Kanye.

On Monday, Ye took out an ad in The Wall Street Journal to issue a lengthy apology for some of his antisemitic behavior in early 2025. In the statement, he attributed his actions to a four-month manic episode caused by untreated brain damage and mental illness, and he promised to be “committed to accountability, treatment, and meaningful change.”

“I regret and am deeply mortified by my actions in that state,” Ye wrote. “It does not excuse what I did though. I am not a Nazi or an antisemite. I love Jewish people.” He also apologized to the Black community, writing, “I am so sorry to have let you down.” (Unmentioned were the still-pending lawsuits from his former employees alleging sexual harassment and discrimination.)

The following day, Vanity Fair published an interview with Ye in which he further atoned for his “horrible statements” and said he is working toward finding the right treatment so he can “continue down this positive course.”

Vanity Fair notes in the interview that Ye responded to its questions via email. This is blatantly obvious, as the Q&A is not reflective of how Ye talks or has ever talked. His answers appear to be carefully crafted by public relations experts; one response about “losing your grip entirely” is lifted nearly verbatim from his apology letter. Regardless, the fact that the artist — or his advisors — decided to engage with journalists in the first place signals … something.

Take Ye at his word, if you’d like: He experienced an extended bout of mania caused by lingering brain damage and bipolar disorder and “lost touch with reality.” He hit “rock bottom,” and with the help of “medication, therapy, exercise, and clean living” he has achieved a “much-needed clarity.” Ye has previously spoken about his struggles with mental illness, but never with such vulnerability. Mr. West woke up and disavowed the disgusting things he said. He’s ready to make amends.

Or, take the cynical route. Ye, conveniently, is releasing his new album “Bully” on Friday. (Allegedly — any fan of Ye knows to believe it when they see it.) And that album begs promoting. Plus, this isn’t the first time Ye has apologized for his antisemitic rants. In December 2023, he issued a statement in Hebrew that said, “I deeply regret any pain I may have caused” after declaring he would go “death con 3 On JEWISH PEOPLE.” That was a few months after he was dropped by CAA and dumped by Adidas — yes, a company founded by literal Nazis — amid a larger corporate fallout. The apology was also, notably, two months before the release of his 2024 album “Vultures 1.” A year after that, he rescinded the apology and wrote on X, “I AM A NAZI.” His rhetoric coincided with an alarming escalation of antisemitism in the U.S. and abroad. 

For Ye’s sake, I sincerely hope he is on the road to rehabilitation. Skepticism aside, this apology does feel weightier than any of his prior displays of penitence. And as Ye pointed out to Vanity Fair, he doesn’t need mainstream acceptance to sell records. “Vultures 1” debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 in the wake of his anti-Jewish outbursts and poorly received walkback. The sequel, “Vultures 2,” hit No. 2 despite lacking a discernible hit. (Imagine how long he could top the charts with an actually good album!)

Ye said his apology isn’t motivated by “reviving my commerciality” but rather “because these remorseful feelings were so heavy on my heart and weighing on my spirit.” Still, one should consider the venues he selected to kick off this apology tour. 

Why take out a paid ad in The Wall Street Journal rather than pen an op-ed? Surely, plenty of publications would have salivated at the web traffic promised by a Kanye West byline. Or, he could have simply posted the statement to social media, like his last mea culpa. And why recruit Vanity Fair for a Q&A written in PR-speak rather than upload a video speaking off the cuff, which would undoubtedly feel more authentic for an artist famous for his erratic spontaneity?

Legacy media brings name-brand legitimacy, which is something Ye has not been able to access for years now. It’s true that everything gets flattened and stripped of origin in the plains of social media. But who is he trying to reach with a print ad in the Wall Street Journal if not C-suite executives and investors? And with Vanity Fair, might he be targeting a largely female, tastemaker class? If nothing else, his recent moves indicate a desire to reach those who cast him away — and perhaps those with the boardroom influence and cultural currency to help bring him back.

But back to what? What kind of career does Ye think is possible now? Maybe he plans to return to the stage for his first real tour in 10 years and needs to woo a promoter — a tall task considering his pattern of canceling live performances. Maybe he’s hoping to be re-embraced by the corporate world, which would require a lot more than a week of “My bad, guys.” Maybe he’s ready to release great music again. (I believe he flexed that potential on the little-known 2024 track “No Face.”) Or maybe he’s planning to go away for a while and pick up the pieces of his life. One can only hope his pursuit of self-betterment outlives his next album’s promotional cycle. 

Many people will continue to shun Ye, and they will be more than justified in refusing to forgive a celebrity who vilified a minority for years. Still, others will accept his apology, taking his calculated media blitz as an opportunity to welcome him back into their lives. Can you blame them? They miss the old Kanye.

To me, what his apology signals more than anything is an admission that Kanye misses him, too.