The truth and other lies

Is Honesty Really the Best Policy?

What I learned from the Mediums in the last little while

When we are children, we are taught to tell the truth. It seems so natural. So pure. And then the ways of the world seep their way in, and things get complicated. The truth hurts, and some people (AKA Tom Cruise) just can’t handle it. Are we right to do away with honesty in the name of empathy, or is lying just an excuse for our own unprincipled behaviour?

I just finished watching Love is Blind season 3 (What? I’m less cool because my escapism doesn’t have dragons in it?) and several of the male contestants put this theory to the test. They told their fiancés that some of the other girls they were dating (when blind) turned out to be much hotter than the one they were currently engaged to. Instead of acknowledging the hurt and pain these statements carried, they championed their brutal honesty like a ‘big dick’ badge.

Like honesty, having a big dick may be lauded in the right situations, but pinning it to your forehead and slapping people in the face with it won't win you any friends. Or wives, in their case.

This isn’t to say lying is superior. Too much of that and you’ll turn into the most hated character in this soap opera we call life: the politician. They have the most incredible digestive systems of any species on this planet. Each day they swallow mountains of truth, yet by the time their faecal eruptions are caught on TV and radio and the dying print of the newspaper, any trace of truth has long since vanished.

So how do you know when to lie and when to tell the truth? It all depends on the situation.

Death

Death is the one certainty in life. It used be death and taxes, but Donald Trump proved the second one was fake news.

After the age of 23, we think about death once every 14 seconds on average. We think about sex once every 32 seconds on average. We think about death during sex every 5 seconds, although my therapist tells me that’s only because my masturbation technique is a little risky.

Regardless of how often each individual thinks about it, we can agree death is quite a serious topic. That’s why I believe death should be treated with the utmost respect and not smeared with lies and falsehoods.

So does a local woman, Angie Belton, as reported by Kristen Stark:

Inspired by Angie, I honoured her honesty when asked recently whether I was saddened by the death of Queen Elizabeth. I said no, I was not sad. In fact, I was slightly pleased, as her pension was sucking the coffers dry and her funeral meant we got an extra public holiday.

In retrospect, saying this during my job interview at the royal palace may not have been the right time or place.

When looking in the mirror

In an age of botox and photoshop, it seems we have never been more miserable when gazing at our reflection. Why? We’re too honest.

Take a look at some of the brutal truths we tell ourselves each morning in the bathroom:

• I have 38 wrinkles on my forehead when I do my quizzical blue steel.
• My nostril hairs are now thicker than my butt crack bush.
• My eyes betray a sadness deeper than the Mariana trench and heavier than the Megalodons who lurk there.

This applies equally in our internal sense of self. If we remind ourselves of the sheer ineptitude of our existences too often, rolling out of bed can seem like summiting Mt Everest.

Srini, who looks damn good in every mirror lucky enough to see him, offers some sage advice on keeping up appearances:

I should point out, this advice only applies if your vision and sanity have been regularly checked by qualified professionals.

kasey sparks is extra diligent in this regard. She is known to visit her optometrist weekly, and even after hours when she’s desperate to see the bottom line. Or even the front line.

Relationships

Many people say relationships are founded on honesty and trust. Well that goes out the window after the first few years — especially when your partner joins you in the mirror.

The battle comes when debating which doubts to share, which dirty laundry needs airing and which annoying habit pisses you off the most. Lie together for the kids, or drop a truth bomb explosion and watch your family scatter?

These are deep thoughts, and I’ll leave it to one of Medium’s deepest deep thinkers, Michelle A. Cmarik to put those thoughts into words equal parts beautiful and heart breaking.

Writing

Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction, right?

Write.

Unless your fiction is a wacked out animal comedy/romance/drama set in a gay conversion camp for giraffes.

But sometimes less truth is more good. Don’t spoil all the intrigue with an info dump bigger than an elephants morning bowel motion after a heavy night of Guinness and takeaway kebabs.

Show the dump and let the reader make up their own mind what caused this carnage. Or rather, let BichoDoMato tell you how to show.

History

This should be an easy one, shouldn't it?

But history is written by the winners of the wars, and often the best war winners aren’t always the most ethical and truthful. Just ask the English/Australians, who almost destroyed the worlds oldest civilisation through slavery, genocide and dispossession, and then had the gall to declare the country the land of the ‘fair go.’

Alas, we cannae trust the history books. Just ask Ted Czukor, who reveals the long held idea of ‘decades’ consisting of 10 years is actually a stinking pile of unsplash.

Telephone-based communication

Really, this is all that matters in today’s world. We live and die by the telephone. We use it to stay in contact with friends and family. To read the news. To write snarky comments below videos of tormented beings baring their souls to the trolls.

Mobile phones have been the single greatest leap forward in the field of lying since Neil Armstrong stepped out onto the Nevada desert with only an antique flip phone camera to film it.

I say go for it. Lie all you want. Just don’t do it to my face. Or Adam Robinson’s ears.

Verdict

Is honesty really the best policy? I’d like to say yes, but that’d probably be a lie.

I’ll leave the final word to Fleetwood. Mac your own mind up.

When not pondering real deep shit, Patrick Eades writes humour and fiction, and funny little footers that are really just thinly veiled phishing attempts for you to subscribe to his email thingo and join Medium so he gets a cut of your dole money.