Reader Request Week 2012 #2: Would I Lie to You?
Posted on March 19, 2012 Posted by John Scalzi 47 Comments
The next Reader Request question, from Brian H., in e-mail, who asks:
Do you lie? Do you lie often? Do you regret lying?
The answers: Yes of course; define “often”; no, not usually.
The “yes, of course,” is because everyone lies and I don’t pretend I’m the exception to the rule. The “define ‘often'” answer is because I have no idea what qualifies as “often.” If it’s once an hour, then no. Once a day, possibly. Once a week: Hell, yes. The “no, not usually” is because generally if I’m lying to someone, it’s because I decided it was the appropriate thing to do in that situation — the best course of action in that circumstance — and I don’t generally regret doing what I think is necessary.
And you may say: When might I find it necessary to lie to someone? Well, as examples:
1. If I’ve been asked to keep something in confidence and you ask me about it, I will lie to you.
2. If you ask me a personal question and I don’t feel that I know you and/or trust you and/or like you and/or your discretion is not reliable and/or any other particular reason that disinclines me to answer the question truthfully, I will lie to you.
3. If I know something I don’t think it’s useful for you to know, and you ask me about it, I will lie to you.
4. If you knowing something will make you and/or me deeply unhappy for what I consider not worthwhile reasons, and you ask me about it, I will lie to you.
And so on; these are just four obvious examples.
Bear in mind that I don’t generally lie for the sake of lying. That’s really stupid, and I’m not that good of a liar. Most things aren’t worth lying about, and as a rule I do try to live my life in a manner so that lying isn’t something I have to do a lot of. Life is simpler that way. And in particular I think generally speaking you’re a fool if you lie to your spouse on a regular basis. I lied to Krissy once in our relationship — it had to do with flowers I sent to her on her birthday — and she knew it immediately and mocked me mercilessly (though not unkindly) for it. On the basis of that I decided that there would be no advantage whatsoever in lying to her about anything else, particularly things she would actually get pissed about. This is a practical decision which has served me well for many years. Likewise, I try not to lie to my kid. Everyone else is subject to being lied to if necessary.
But of course that’s the other thing: It’s usually not necessary. Let me give you an example. A month ago, while I was at Boskone, my father-in-law died, which necessitated me leaving the convention earlier than I had been scheduled to. While I told the con committee about what happened, what I really didn’t want was for it to become general knowledge. The last thing I needed, from a keeping-my-shit-together-emotionally point of view, was an entire convention of people offering condolences and hugs and stories about their own similar situations. So I didn’t talk about it and asked the con committee not to talk about it, and so aside from a very few people, I didn’t have to talk about it. If someone who wasn’t a friend has asked me why I was leaving early, I would have lied to them about it in the most innocuous way possible (probably something along the lines of “my flights got rearranged,” which was technically true because I rearranged them). But it wasn’t necessary because people didn’t know. Thus is illustrated the power of simply keeping quiet.
(Also illustrated: the fact that not every lie needs be malicious, or designed to keep people from knowing unseemly things. I have no doubt whatsoever that the good folks at Boskone, had they known, would have been sympathetic and supportive and caring, and I appreciate what they would have been trying to be and do for me. But the thing is that I was both extremely upset at Mike’s passing and that I was not at home for my wife when her father died, or for my daughter when her grandfather passed away. I was not in the right place, emotionally or geographically, for the sympathy of others at that moment. Lying in that case would have kept me from losing it, in more than one way.)
As a general rule I don’t recommend lying, since it often complicates life and hurts people and makes one look like an ass. But as you can see I don’t believe it’s always an evil, either. It has its time and place, and for me it’s a recognition that I’m not required to share every single thing that goes on in my life with every single person. That’s perfectly fine, and I don’t have a problem editing the public presentation of my life in that way.
So, yes: I lie, and generally do not regret doing so. But generally speaking I do try not to. And that’s the truth.
(It’s not too late to get questions in for this year’s Reader Request Week — add yours here).
I’ll also note that my general strategy for any question that I don’t want to answer truthfully is not to deny it but to confirm it. As in:
Q: “Is it true that you were seen fondling a goat?”
A: “Not just one! Several!”
And etc. The reason being that confirming everything has the same truth value as denying everything, and is usually a lot more fun to do.
I generally lie to marketing people. Especially to extremely aggressive ones who won’t take no for an answer. I actually think I’m being more polite that way, since I have very little patience, and a tendancy to swear indiscriminately.
BTW, if there are marketing people among my fellow readers, please don’t take that the wrong way. I know you’re just doing your job, and not trying to bug the shit out of me. It’s partly the issues in my head that cause the extreme annoyance.
Since my co-author Professor Philip Vos Fellman and I have been working on, and publishing about, our grand Mathematical Disinformation Theory, let me cite a favorite reference:
The Definition of Lying and Deception
First published Thu Feb 21, 2008
Copyright © 2008 by James Edwin Mahon
The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy
Questions central to the philosophical discussion of lying to others and other-deception (or interpersonal deceiving) may be divided into two kinds. Questions of the first kind are definitional. They include the questions of how lying is to be defined, and how deceiving is to be defined, and whether lying is a form of intended deception. Questions of the second kind are moral. They include the questions of whether lying and deceiving are (defeasibly) morally wrong, and whether, if either lying or deception, or both, are defeasibly morally wrong, they are ever morally obligatory, and not just merely morally permissible. In this entry, we only consider questions of the first kind.
[The rest snipped because it’s long enough that I question whether it is on the wrong side of fair use. JVP, rather than cutting and consider briefly summarizing with specific emphasis on the point you wish to make — JS]
The most truthful post about lying I’ve read.
On the rare occasions I speak to the Parental Units, I lie to them pretty routinely. While it is true that I lived under their roof full time until I turned 18, and part time until I graduated from college, providing for me physically is not the same thing as being there for me emotionally. At this point, it’s healthier for me to keep my distance from them, both physically and emotionally. Therefore, if they ask me about something and I feel either that it’s not something they need to know about, or that it would serve no useful purpose for me to be completely frank with them (much as I would like to), I will lie.
On the other hand, as Scalzi discovered, I see no useful purpose in lying to my spouse. I rarely lie to our friends, and when I do it’s of the “oh, you look great in that outfit!” variety, when behind closed doors I will say to my husband “can you believe that outfit your BFF was wearing?!”
Hm. For most of your categories, John, I would probably offer some variation of, “I can’t/won’t discuss that (with you/in public),” as opposed to lying. On the other hand, I am more that willing to make up crazy ass stories when I feel someone is being obnoxious or inappropriately personal, e.g. this scar is from my initiation into an all-female gang, the Angry Peaches, and I got my black eye pursuing my weekend hobby of Ultimate Cage Fighting.
John lies. He lies … when he cries.
Constance:
“For most of your categories, John, I would probably offer some variation of, ‘I can’t/won’t discuss that (with you/in public),’ as opposed to lying.”
Oh, I do that too, with people I know will leave it at that. But some people aren’t good at leaving it at that.
tyger11:
That’ll never be me! Don’t you even think it!
If the question is rude, I don’t have to be polite. I can just refuse to answer it.
If the question isn’t rude, but I don’t want to answer, I say “I don’t want to answer.”
If not answering is an answer, I mislead without technically lying. This is no better ethically, but doesn’t break my geas as badly.
If the only answer that will keep me from getting all bloody is a lie, I lie. Fortunately I have only had to do this once or twice in my life.
In reference to your first comment, John, it can also be fun to tell the truth in a way that makes people believe you’re lying. Not that I’ve ever done that.
I agree with John Scalzi erring on side of caution in Fair Use. The essay cited is long and, to those not professionally involved in Philosophy (which I’ve taught at college level), or Mathematical Logic (sub-field of my B.S. in Math at Caltech 1973), astonishingly complicated. Human nature is devious, including self-deception. Animals and even plants have evolved to be disinformational (I avoid a digression into Evolutionary Game Theory). It is annoying to be accused of lying, when you’re sure that you are not, and equally, to have an obvious liar (such as professional politician) insist that they never lie. It is thus frustrating at a meta-level that there isn’t even a consensus definition of “lies.”
Did we have a thread once on Art as “a lie that tells the truth”? Or quote my classmate David Brin on the paradox of the phrase “Science Fiction” — does it men the truth about lies, or lies about the truth?
“I need you to trust me.”
“You don’t always tell the truth.”
“If I always told the truth, I wouldn’t need you to trust me.”
(First off agree that some cicumstances need lying, no big deal or great betrayal.) Personally, I find telling the truth takes less brain power. When you tell the truth, you just remember the facts. When you lie, you naturally tend to remember the truth, but also load on top of that remembering the falsehood you told, and especially which was told to whom if it comes up in conversation again, and so on. Unless there’s a good reason to do otherwise, telling the truth is just cognitively easier – and I imagine most other people are like me and benefit from not taking on more cognitive load than necessary.
Truth – it’s just easier.
[Confirming everything] I’m reminded of Feynman and the missing door.
“Did you steal the door?”
“Yes, I stole the door.”
“Stop it, Feynman, this is serious!”
(Yes, he’d stolen the door.)
@chaosprime
Rule #1…
If you were hanging out by a doorway, would you be the SciFi author who always told the truth or the SciFi author who always told a lie? Or maybe the SciFi author who beheaded silly little girls who asked trick questions?
But does the Goat Fondling confirmation count as a lie, or just a more elaborate way of stating “I choose not to answer this question”?
Assuming Mr. Scalzi isn’t a degenerate goat-fondler, I’d say all of the above with a side of “frak off you creepy little weirdo”. I prefer the vaguely threatening enigmatic half-smile/painfully awkward silence combo myself – but it takes years of practice to pull off.
Mike: I would put the Goat Fondling confirmation under the category of “Ask a silly question, you’ll get a silly answer.” I wouldn’t count that as a lie. Or if it is a lie, it’s the most frivolous type of lie possible. :)
A common subject here is whether Scalzi has just the right amount of fame, but I think this is a case where even his modest degree of fame puts him in situations like this with greater than average frequency.
Actually I’m beginning to wonder about the ‘confirm everything’ strategy for politicians. We could award points for creativity.
“Did you vote against the elderly?”
“Not only that, but I hired gunmen.”
lies are social lubricant. if one were to tell 100% the truth, 100% of the time – everyone would think he/she was an asshole.
One of the things I count luckiest about my relationship is that I’m able to be honest with her and that I can trust her to me honest with me, even about difficult things. Seeing relationships where one or more of the participants is regularly dishonest saddens me. (Yes, there are situations where regular dishonesty in a relationship is understandable, but none of those reasons are exactly comforting. Domestic abuse, for instance.)
And then there are the people who give the generally sexism-based advice that one “has to” lie to ones spouse or potential spouse, or they won’t love you. [insert teeth gnashing here]
now deciet- that’s a whole other animal…. lying for personal gain where HARM is done to the person you are lying to – that also makes you an asshole… so the moral of the story, “brutal” honesty= not nice, deciet=evil
Mike @6:24pm:
Actually I’m beginning to wonder about the ‘confirm everything’ strategy for politicians. We could award points for creativity.
“Did you vote against the elderly?”
“Not only that, but I hired gunmen.”
I doubt that that would end well for any politician who tried it. The base constituencies of both ends of the spectrum (fundies and tea partiers on the right, tree-huggers ans earnest liberal do-gooders on the left) are often very humorless types; i.e., irony is completely lost on them. Their howls of outrage, however, would provide considerable entertainment for the rest of us.
If by base constituency you mean a large and loyal voting block, I find that unlikely. Their spokesmen might choose to ignore the humor, “how can you joke at a time like this?”.
I favor truth over lying, as I suspect everyone reading this does. However, our society not only doesn’t have appropriate boundaries or ways to avoid topics (If you tell someone that you’re sorry, it’s personal, or that you can’t answer that right now, then suddenly YOU’RE the rude one and hiding something, etc., etc.) but social lies are expected and given and received with perfect satisfaction on both sides. You can’t be perfectly honest in a society set up for polite and privacy-induced lies.
“People that say that they are bad liars just don’t practice enough.” (Stevie)
I lie rarely enough that however badly I do it, people who know me tend to believe it.
Generally, if someone asks me something I don’t want them to know, I just straight-up tell them I don’t want them to know. Eg.,
“I have private reasons.”
“What private reasons?”
“What part of ‘private’ don’t you understand?” — or words to that effect. Or “no comment”, or words to -that- effect.
If someone is so willfully obtuse they don’t recognize that you’re not under any obligation to tell them everything they might want to know after you’ve actually -told- them so (‘private’), why waste consideration on them? You’ve already given them an easy-out warning. This is one reason why personal reticence is often a good idea and why “pushy” is not a complement. If somene says it’s private, the appropriate response is just to drop it; if you don’t, on your own head be it.
As a general principle, it’s morally better to hurt people than lie to them, because lying undermines social trust and deprives them of their right to make informed decisions about what they’ll do, besides just being inherently bad in itself.
That said, while lying is evil, it’s not necessarily the supreme evil in any given case; general principles always need to be applied in specific contexts. If the mob wants to know where the Jews are hiding, you lie, to take an extreme example.
I am mildly interested in the motivation of the person who asked you the “Do you lie?” question. When I saw the question I immediately thought of Ray Comfort. Ray Comfort is a vile con-man who has a Big Scam revolving around the question “Do you lie?” Ray Comfort is a partner-in-crime with Kirk Cameron. Since you have been addressing Kirk Cameron lately, I thought maybe a Ray Comfort clone or sock-puppet might be trying to pull the “Do you lie?” con on you. That particular Scam only works on ignorant people, so I knew you were safe.
I consider a lie to be ‘[carries the intent to deceive.]’
What color is the sky? Blue. – Not a lie even when even when it is quite horrible outside.
I did not have sex with that woman. Lie. For one thing, IMO she was a girl, not a woman.
One of my favorite quotes from Heinlein:
“Moving parts in rubbing contact require lubrication to avoid excessive wear. Honorifics and formal politeness provide lubrication where people rub together. Often the very young, the untraveled, the naïve, the unsophisticated deplore these formalities as “empty,” “meaningless,” or “dishonest,” and scorn to use them. No matter how “pure” their motives, they thereby throw sand into machinery that does not work too well at best.”
And to the absolutists in the audience. As a journalist I know too well the temptation to lie by only telling the absolute truth. In carefully chosen pieces.
This one seemed like a no-brainer. Here’s hoping that the rest of the week’s answers are from more nuanced/complex questions. Though, I’d like to offer, if I may, kudos for not falling back on the tired “fat in these jeans” example (or the even more sinister “fat in these genes”).
This is such a nuanced question that it has not been solved. See the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philsophy paper I mentioned. This is such a hard problem that people have been arguing about for all of History. I have been working for a decade to solve more of it than anyone before. Maybe this Abstract and Table of Contents will hint at the trickiness.
Public Disinformation Announcement Logic
By Jonathan Vos Post
Draft 7.0, 44 pages,15,300 words of 17 September 2010]
Abstract:
Public Disinformation Announcement Logic (PDAL) is an extension of multiagent epistemic logic with dynamic operators to model the informational consequences (including belief revisions) of announcements (some by liars) to the entire group of agents. We propose an extension of public announcement logic with a dynamic modal operator that expresses what is true after any announcement: {diamond}φ expresses that there is a truthful announcement ψ after which φ is true. This logic gives a perspective on Fitch’s knowability issues: For which formulas φ, does it hold that φ → {diamond}Kφ? We give various semantic results and show completeness for a Hilbert-style axiomatization of this logic. There is a natural generalization to a logic for arbitrary events. Issues of computational complexity are raised. It would be interesting if PDAL is computationally infeasible with classical computers, but feasible with quantum computers. Future directions indicated.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1 Abstract
2 Introduction
2 Knowledge, Possibility, Common Knowledge, and Knowledge After Announcement
2 Liars, Truthtellers, and Those In Between
6 Syntax of APAL
7 Necessity and possibility forms
8 Semantics of APAL: from Kripke and Beyond
11 Alethic Modalities
11 Physical possibility
12 Metaphysical possibility
12 Distinguishing Alethic from Epistemic Modalities
12 Epistemic Logic
15 Temporal Logic
17 Aristotle’s Solution
17 Leibniz
19 Linear Temporal Logic and Computer Science Temporal Logic
20 APAL as Pointed Kripke Models
22 Bisimulation
24 AGM Axiomatization of Belief Revision, and Indira’s Pearls
27 Fitch and the Paradoxes of Knowability
30 References
35 Notes for Next Draft
35 Even harder than The Hardest Logic Puzzle Ever
@ Jonathan Vos Post
Letting my inner pendant out for a moment, I think conflating fiction with lying is a misnomer. If you’re letting the audience know ahead of time that this is fiction, it’s not actually a lie. Otherwise there would be no reason to have two different terms.
@ Xopher Halftongue
To paraphrase Craig Ferguson:
1) Does this lie need to be told.
2) Does this lie need to be told by me.
3) Does this lie need to be told by me now.
For values of need equal to something you consider worth lying for.
When weighing the cost/benefit analysis, consider:
a) You’ll have to convince the person you intend to lie to.
b) You’ll have to remember the lie and who you told it to later.
c) If you weigh the costs and benefits erroneously, you may regret it either way.
My personal rule of thumb is, if I find myself in a situation where lying is the best option, something has already gone wrong and my best strategy is to extricate myself with all reasonable alacrity and do all within reason to avoid winding up in that situation again. That said, no one can control everyone around them, and sometimes lying is a matter of safety and/or keeping it together emotionally.
@ Mike
If the smokescreen is obvious, then it’s the latter. If the smokescreen is plausible, then it’s the former. All smokescreens depend on context, specifically who’s the audience and what do they already know about the smokescreen and the truth it occludes.
@ JasonMitchell
So they make it easier to screw people over?
I think this is probably an overgeneralization. If one were to volunteer 100% of information 100% of the time, most people would think they were an asshole. Simply saying that’s none of your beeswax doesn’t tell 100% of the truth, but it doesn’t necessarily lead to assholiness.
@ Bearpaw
Someone who believes this about his or her self, but doesn’t proffer it as advice, may simply lack self-esteem, in which case sexism may not be involved – though any relationship they form will be on rocky terrain at best.
@ J. Swan
Perfect honesty will get you in trouble if you practice it all the time with everyone you encounter, and may endanger others as well. But the idea that you can’t practice habitual honesty among those with whom you choose to associate would be wrong. People who fit that picture of “society” you painted tend to gravitate towards fellow busybodies/sycophants. People who don’t fit that picture of “society” gravitate toward others who share their values of honesty and discretion. Society is not some sort of homogenized blob. Friends, associates and loved ones who aren’t shallow marplots are not as rare as you seem to believe.
Two thoughts on your policy of confirming everything:
1. My favorite way to lie is to tell the truth in such a was as to be disbelieved.
2. There’s a great joke that ends with the line, “A good goat’ll do that.”
Re: The Goat Gambit
My typical response is not necessarily not to dispute it but in fact to up the ante. “Fondling goats? Why would I do that? Dogs are much more trusting.”
Re: Social Lies:
It’s an old book but Allan Sherman’s The Rape of the A.P.E. has weathered well. He has a lot to say about social lies. For a while I amused myself by following his suggestion to respond to “How are you?” with “I have reached a disastrous crossroads in my life.” As he predicted, most people didn’t even register it and the rest just blinked and went on talking. I’ve also gone through periods of answering quite honestly, which has the same result. Now I just lie and say, “Fine,” although I usually phrase it anachronistically by saying “Peachy,” or “Swell.”
And for another insightful comment on the nature of trustworthiness and liars:
“The funny thing is, Mr. Lipwig, that I find myself trusting you all the more when you tell me how untrustworthy you are,” said Miss Dearheart.
Moist sighed. “Yes, I know, Spike. Wretched, isn’t it? It’s a people thing.”
Sir Terry Pratchett, Going Postal
Thanks to jjsutherland and Marc Whipple for the Heinlein and Pratchett quotes, both ones i try to live my life by.
Also – Kris: “fat in those genes” (HAH!),
In other, niggly, site design questions: John (I almost said mr scalzi, but irrationally felt closer to you than that) In a recent site redesign, the arrows to the previous/next blog entry seem to have shifted to the bottom of the entry. Is it possible to put them on the top as well? I’m imagining next year, when I am rereading them all, it would make it easier to browse to exactly which Reader Request I am looking for.
Thanks!
Interestingly, the one person in the world that I lie to on a consistent basis is my wife. Of course, that’s only in special situations. Like when I’m buying her a Christmas present (she doesn’t like surprises, but I do).
Her: “Did you buy me anything?”
Me: “I dunno”
Her: “Really? You don’t know?”
Me: “Ok. I didn’t”
Her: “You didn’t buy my gift?”
Me: “Oh yeah. I did.”
Her: “What did you buy?”
Me: “I didn’t buy anything.”
Her: “Grrrr”
And I will keep this conversation going until she has no idea what’s true and what isn’t.
For a while I amused myself by following his suggestion to respond to “How are you?” with “I have reached a disastrous crossroads in my life.” As he predicted, most people didn’t even register it and the rest just blinked and went on talking. I’ve also gone through periods of answering quite honestly, which has the same result. Now I just lie and say, “Fine,” although I usually phrase it anachronistically by saying “Peachy,” or “Swell.”
I find I’m flashing back to that Heinlein quote. Heinlein was a pretty sharp guy.
I know a few people who seem to believe “lying” is the ultimate sin, and claim to refuse to do it under any circumstance. I think that sometimes you just have to lie. I’d sure as hell lie if it was the best choice I had concerning the protection of my family. After all, Rahab was honoured in the Bible for lying — because it saved people’s lives. Even among the religious, there is evidence that sometimes it is okay lie. Like John, I try to limit my lying, but unfortunately, I also happen to be pretty good at it. I may find myself sliding towards it a bit more than I should — especially if it is a issue I just don’t want to deal with. My wife on the other hand is an awful liar, and so she does it pretty close to never.
“A lie is an abomination unto the Lord and a very present help in time of trouble.” — Adlai Stevenson
I have always liked that snarky quote — a very practical viewpoint for a politician.
@Christopher
I just watched Twist of Faith last night. Seems that it’s in the Catholic Cannon that a priest can and should lie if it’s to protect the church and its interests. In other words, it’s written in church law to lie about priests that diddle. So I wouldn’t really hold up religion as an extreme example of the subject at hand.
My wife on the other hand is an awful liar, and so she does it pretty close to never.
My guess would be that the causality may be the other way around, but I don’t know your wife.
I find the most useful social lies are those that condense or simplify the truth — I began to be an adult when I realized I could answer the question “Where are you from?” with (depending on the situation) either the place I have lived for the past few years; the place I was born; or both – but that I didn’t have to spend five minutes recounting *every* place I’d ever spent more than ten months.
My cats lie to me frequently. Usually it’s about how long it’s been since they’ve been fed (they’re on diets), although sometimes it’s just the usual cat lies about “I meant to do that” or “what? I didn’t hear any loud crash!”
And John, you’re free to use the excuse that goat lie, just as sheep do.