When not to tell the truth
Simon Risley muses on the challenge of being honest in all we say
Earlier this year I was asked to speak at Quaker Quest on ‘Truth’. At our meeting beforehand one speaker said that since he’d become a Quaker he never, ever lied – apparently something of a contrast to his previous life. It was my turn next; and when I said that I was going to suggest that there were occasions when we actually should lie, this – as you might not be surprised to hear – resulted in the eyebrows of the previous speaker practically hitting the ceiling! So, I explained why I thought this.
My argument was simple – and entirely pragmatic. In my view, if we went around telling the unvarnished truth to everyone we met society would soon fall apart. So, at least to some degree, we need to be – how shall I put it? Well, perhaps a little disingenuous from time to time.
In my talk, I illustrated this with a couple of examples. I have a friend whom I’ll call Jane – although that’s obviously not her real name. Jane once floored me by declaring her great interest in clothes. My astonishment – I hope well concealed! – arose from the fact that Jane, in my opinion, has absolutely no idea of what looks good on her, or how to put clothes together. She really hasn’t a clue! So, let’s imagine a hypothetical occasion when Jane has bought a new outfit and asks me what I think of it. If I were brutally honest, I might say: ‘Oh, Jane, it’s ghastly: it makes you look a complete frump!’ Clearly, that’s not a very helpful or sensible answer if I hope to keep Jane as a friend. So, to avoid telling a barefaced lie, I could prevaricate and say something more considered, along the lines of: ‘Oh Jane: it’s so you!’ That, of course, might be literally true. However, my underlying intention would be that such an ambiguous remark should be mistaken by Jane as a compliment.
So, this sort of Machiavellian reply is still, I would contend, really nothing more than a lie in disguise.
Then there’s health. I currently suffer from a dodgy hip and am quite often in some pain. However, if someone asks me how I am I will usually say ‘Fine!’ It’s not always strictly true, but I know perfectly well that there are few things more irritating than people who ruthlessly inflict their detailed medical histories on even the most vague of acquaintances. So, yet again I’ve lied.
Is this wrong? I don’t think so. To me, there’s a substantive difference between lying for personal gain, or in order to belittle someone (and so on and so forth), and telling small lies in order to keep the wheels of normal social intercourse turning. But, small or not, a lie is still a lie. Failing to tell the complete truth doesn’t necessarily refer to something we might say. It could perfectly well be something we decide not to say. It could be a prevarication, or a deliberate ambiguity. Perhaps we should look at some of the consequences of always being totally honest. We would probably end up as isolated individuals with few, if any, friends. The world of diplomacy would grind to a halt. We would have more social friction and more wars. By this, do I suggest that we should abandon our testimony to integrity? No, of course not!
We can still live upright and decent lives. Nevertheless, humans are social animals; and if we are to live in the real world we need, on occasion, to be careful of what we choose to say – and of what we choose not to say.
Comments
we may not tell a lie knowingly, but if we are not aware of our false or conditioned self, we may tell many lies without knowing that we are not telling God’s truth.
By Richard on 30th August 2018 - 14:54
Few will argue against Simon’s analysis but it avoids the challenge of being “The Society of Friends of Truth” which was our original claim. Where in his discussion is the truth “which sets us free”?
I suggest the “The Truth” is that we are comfortable, middle class lovers of beauty and the arts. We are uncomfortable when facing beggars or eccentrics, and justify ourselves by engaging in good works and standing orders to charities of our choosing. We seek a good education for ourselves and our dependents so that they too can get good worthwhile jobs. I do not excuse myself from all this.
All my life I have asked God, “What do you want me to do?” and sought to obey, but the truth is that I choose what I think I can do. I don’t know what God wants, nor even that He exists outside of me. That is my truth. I think it has set me free.
By john0708 on 30th August 2018 - 15:15
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