The scent of burning pants

Can you feel good about lies? Yes you can…

It’s good to trust people. We want to believe each other. And most of us probably tell the truth most of the time. But sometimes not. Misdirection, selective abstraction, omission, fibbing, white lies. They’re annoying, it’s sometimes tempting to tell the perpetrators you know their little games.

Well, not all of them. Some people it’s possible to let get away with it, and even be ok with it. But it doesn’t seem very fair. Not rational. So why? It seems to be about three things: competence at lying, how open or secretive someone is generally, and the physical sensations that are caused.

But we’re not prejudiced, not mendacionists. Obviously we never ever lie ourselves, but some of our best friends are liars… really.

Take Sal. Sal lies beautifully and competently. Always there for me when she needs me. Would really love to see me but it’s impossible right now. Only ever hear from Sal when Sal’s in trouble. Then writes that she misses me so much, how much she loves me, how important I am to her. Can I help her out? I lap it up. I get back to her with whatever she needs. I completely ignore that whenever I’m in trouble and write her to ask for advice or help I don’t hear for a week. She’s always got good get-outs and is humble, apologetic and very open… she’ll tell me everything that’s going on in her life. When I do see her she’ll make me feel good about myself, tell me she loves me, admires how good I am at something. These are things humans want: affirmation, maintained self-esteem, feeling special, trusted, acknowledgement of competence. I can never be mad at her.

Take Ray. Clever, interesting, probably good-hearted. But not such a good liar. It’s obvious, and it doesn’t make me feel good. Not necessarily big fat lies, but niggling little ones that raise other questions. Plays cards close to the chest. The get-outs are transparent. Rarely if ever says anything that leads me to feel good about myself. Forgets the lie and gives it away later so I know. Ray knows I know. I know Ray knows I know. It’s a shame about Ray.

It’s irritating, but it’s hard to challenge the lie… the results of asking about or challenging make things worse. If you catch someone in a lie they don’t tend to say “Yeah, sorry. Fair enough… you caught me. How can I make it up to you?” (we’d likely respect them if they did.)  But no. They get indignant. They deny. They entrench. They turn it around and try to make something our fault. So you both end up feeling rubbish. What started out as interest in ‘why-the-lie?’ gets turned into a blame game.

So why the difference with Ray? First, Ray doesn’t credit me with the nous to be able to sense the fib. It’s kind of insulting. Or maybe does credit me, but puts the onus on me to confront the fib. Second, because there’s no sharing, there’s de facto a lot going on behind the scenes. That’s liveable with on its own, but coupled with fibs it raises questions. Third there are no physical upsides, no feel physically feeling good, no praise like Sal. Just an uncomfortable tight knot in the stomach because there’s some wool-pulling going on.

No no no Ray, that won’t do at all. Don’t put people in that position. Tell the truth or lie competently and beautifully and make them feel it’s worth it dealing with your mendacious misdemeanours.

We can’t change other people. They can change themselves if they can be arsed. We can only change ourselves. It might help if we could be less bothered about it. People don’t like being liars… it may be the best option we felt we had at the time, but it’s bad vibes. On the other hand, questioning or challenging mendacity doesn’t make the perpetrator feel good about themselves either. I let Sal off. I could let others off too.

Now… how am I going to get out of that gig I really don’t want to go to tomorrow with someone. Well, I guess Sal could be turning up at short notice after a tiff with her boyfriend…

Posted by June J