The truth about lying
In a letter to the editor, Dan Weintraub asserts that “We are all liars” (“Trump’s lies are outrageous,” Oct 29). Wouldn’t it be more accurate, interesting, and uplifting to say, “We all encounter moments when we want to lie, and we can all find a way to tell the truth at those times”? Or: “We all lie – and we can all catch ourselves afterward and come clean about the lie, no matter how small it might seem to us to be.”
To say “We are all liars” ignores the spectrum of lying any that is possible among humans – the frequency and the impact of the lies. Many people make a practice of being rather candid. Some are what we call “brutally honest.” A few are habitual offenders of the truth. Any lies Thich Nat Hahn may have told were probably not as impactful as the lies Mao Zhedong told.
But what is universal is that no one needs to lie. There is always a way to speak honestly, and it always feels better to do so. Even when encountered with the proverbial bad haircut, one can find a way to be both honest and kind – for example, one can smile and say, “I can see so much more of your face now!” How much more important it is for a public figure to try to be honest about “the big issues,” such as the ones that Trump encounters in his daily life.
To say that “we all lie” and leave it at that makes it seem like lying is inevitable and we just need to get used to it, to expect it from ourselves, each other, and our leaders. Certainly Trump seems to believe this. But lying isn’t inevitable. It’s a choice. It’s an interesting exercise to pay attention to one’s own urges to lie, and to find ways to speak truthfully instead – or to admit you’ve lied after mindlessly having done so. It’s quite possible to do this for a day – and, once you see how good it feels and how much closer it brings you to others in your life, it may even become a lifetime practice.