(This chapter is strongly indebted to Sissela Bok's Lying:
Moral Choice in Public and Private Life, Pantheon, 1978, an excellent survey
of the philosophic backgrounds and moral issues.)
Sorting out what is not deceptive often helps to clarify some issues
and to focus on the problem areas. If we can reach agreement on what isn't deceptive,
we need not waste time and effort arguing about the wrong issues. Many of the
current debates about deceptive advertising and political lying can be simplified
by a systematic sorting out process.
Some Basic Sorting
To clarify, it helps to use a simple branching diagram to show some of the options:
the information conveyed could be true or not-true; if the information
is not-true, the speaker may not-know (an error) or may know; if the
speaker knows the information is not-true, there may be no intent to
deceive (a fiction) or an intent to deceive (a deception); a deception
can be made explicitly in a statement (a lie), or implicitly,
by some kind of suggestion or evasion.
The diagram below represents these four options. Not diagrammed here, but discussed
later in the chapter, are such issues as the effectiveness of deception,
the purposes and results, good intentions, white lies, paternalism, and the
credibility gap. First, the basic diagram:
| TRUE | NOT TRUE | |||
| Speaker does NOT KNOW it is not true: an error | Speaker KNOWS it is not true. | |||
|
NOT MEANT |
MEANT |
|||
| Explicit statement: a LIE | Implicit: not stated ("deception") |
|||
A "lie," for example, is usually defined as "a statement or assertion of something known or believed by the speaker to be untrue with intent to deceive." This diagram helps clarify by distinguishing lies from errors, fictions, and implied deceptions.
In everyday usage, a common cause of confusion is a shifting
definition of the word lying. Sometimes this word is used very broadly,
as a synonym for deception. Usually we do this when other people are
vaguely deceptive or are evading a direct answer, and we call them "liars"
- a strong attack word. But, when we are evading a direct answer, we often use
the more restricted definition of lying, limiting lying to explicit verbal statements.
We are prompt to assert our innocence: "I didn't say that . . . I never
said that. "
When the word lie is used here, it will be very restricted and precise,
limited to explicit verbal statements. Deception is the wider category which
includes all kinds of nonverbal messages and implications.
Before we leave this branching diagram, note how it can be applied to common
excuses. If a person is caught in a lie, the standard defense is to plead
the lesser offense, to shift across the border to safer areas. Note how
each of the common excuses illustrated below shifts away from the more serious
charge of lying.
| Truth / Non-Truth | (Affirming truth, opinion) |
| "It seemed to me" | |
| Known / Not-Known | (Affirming unintentional error) |
| "I was mistaken." | |
| Fiction / Deception | (Affirming non-intent to deceive) |
| "I was just kidding." | |
| Statement / Non-Statement | (Denying one is a liar) |
| "I didn't say that . . . " | |
| Good Intent / Bad Intent | |
| "I only meant to help . . ." | (Affirming good intentions) |
| "I didn't mean any harm." | (Denying bad intentions) |
| Good Result / Bad Result | |
| "It was for your own good." | (Affirming good result) |
| "It didn't hurt you . . . " | (Denying bad result) |
However, because people are social animals, society counterbalances
this advantage by placing strong injunctions (laws, penalties, guilt) against
deception. Very strong injunctions are placed by both church and state against
aggressive deception; lesser penalties apply and more loopholes are available
when deception is used in self-defense.
If we choose the advantage of deception, society counterbalances, and we run
the risk of other penalties. One of these penalties, for most people, is the
sense of guilt, shame, embarrassment, or uneasiness when they tell a lie or
are deceptive.
Frequently, the guilt and anxiety are shown in certain behaviors
such as blushing, sweating, stammering, averting the eyes, which some times
accompany lies and deception by some people. So, in one way, there are some
cues which tip-off a lie.
However, not all people react this way. Psychopathic liars with little social
concern are less likely to show such behaviors than people who have been raised
with a strong social and rigid religious upbringing. Lie detectors and voice-stress
analyzers and other devices which claim to measure truthfulness have limited
effectiveness. Although some popular books about nonverbal communication have
claimed that we can learn to "read" the nonverbal cues and know when
people are lying, the serious scholars in this research do not make such unqualified
claims. The cluster of cues we normally associate with lying and deception can
also have other causes, and some people can deceive without any external tips.
Any person can deceive, or be deceived. Everyone is able to lie and to
deceive. But some people are "better" liars than others, that is,
some people are more effective in deceiving others, in having their lies accepted
by others. On the receiving end, some people are more gullible, more naive than
others; some people are more likely to be deceived than others. The effectiveness
of deception depends both on the senders and receivers. In actual practice,
few people are extremely deceptive or extremely gullible. Degree is important
here. In different situations, we're apt to have greater or lesser degrees of
gullibility or deception.
The potential for deception is greater today than in the past, simply because of the mass media which allows instant access to millions of people and which takes away some of the natural defenses against deception, some of those nonverbal cues or "leakage" which would tip off some deception, A commercial or political advertisement can simply edit out, in a videotaped presentation, any unwanted or unfavorable images.
Political leaders and business leaders often bemoan the "credibility
gap" today, the fact that people are becoming more skeptical of information
sent to them by these leaders. But, such growing distrust of the professional
persuaders may well be a very reasonable response: reducing the degree of blind-faith
acceptance of incoming messages may well be a survival behavior countering the
increased potential for deception.
Lies and deceptions, generally speaking, are not illegal. Most of the lies
told in this world are among family and friends and acquaintances, and there
are only a relatively few situations in which laws prohibit deceptions. Usually
such laws are concerned with social interactions where money is involved
(fraudulent misrepresentation in business transactions) or a public trust
(official documents, legal witnesses). Such situations are so rare that
the occasions are usually marked by a visible social gesture: a public oath
with raised hand, a signed certificate, a notarized statement affirming the
truth.
Under oath we swear to tell "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. " The spirit of the law can be followed; the literal letter cannot: there is no way to convey the "whole truth." This poetic phrasing is an encouragement to full disclosure, not a statement of an attainable reality.
For centuries, common law tradition has focused on the intent to deceive as an important element in determining fraudulent misrepresentation. In contrast to this, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC), which has been empowered to stop "deceptive advertising," does not have to prove intent, but the ability or capacity to deceive. Such a distinction made it easier to define or identify a "deceptive" ad simply by the opinion or judgment of the Commissioners, but the FTC was severely limited in enforcement and penalties.
Basically, there was a tradeoff. The FTC got some reasonable flexibility in defining deception, but didn't get the power to send someone to jail or to levy fines. The basic FTC penalty was a "cease and desist" order which prohibited the ad from appearing, without charging the violators with illegal acts. In practice, an ad campaign could run its course before the necessary legal action could get it stopped. In some cases, legal appeals delayed the process for ten or fifteen years, while the deceptive ads kept appearing.
Misunderstanding the limitations of the FTC can cause people to have a false illusion of security. Because most people are vaguely aware of the general intention of the laws to prohibit deceptive advertising, some people assume that the government protects them from all deception: "It must be true, or else the government wouldn't allow it on TV!"
This is not so. No matter what laws are on the books, it's almost impossible to stop fraud and deception. Consider the history of the Postal Service which has been trying to enforce the laws against hard-core mail frauds: con games, swindles, chain letters, Pans schemes, etc. Despite their efforts of surveillance and enforcement, every year Americans will lose more than $50 million dollars to the same old hard-core frauds. Laws alone do not protect.
Instead of trying to catch crooks, after the fact, today the general trend of the FTC is toward preventative measures. During the 1970s, consumerist reforms were reflected in new experiments by the FTC designed to reduce deceptive advertising: requirements to substantiate claims, encouragement of comparative advertising, and use of "corrective" ads. Perhaps the most influential reforms are going on unnoticed by the general public: the setting up of "industry guidelines" suggesting, in advance, what the FTC would consider deceptive if it were to be used.
Such suggestions do not have the force of law, but they do keep many advertisers away from the borderlines. Such voluntary restraint and self regulation will not deter someone who is bent on deception. But these guidelines have shown their usefulness already in helping to clarify some complex problems about the legality of some deceptions and lies.
Religious precepts cover much broader ground and define
many more lies as "sins." Moralists are often concerned with the degrees
of seriousness of lying, ranging from "venial sins" for lesser offenses
(fibs) to "mortal sins" for serious lies and deceptions.
Secular social sanctions, too, are very strong against lying and deception.
We condemn duplicity and mendacious behavior; there are strong feelings against
someone who is two-faced or a double-dealer.
If any statement can be a lie, intended to deceive, consider
some of the ways this can be expressed
using the four-part pattern of aggressive behaviors:
![]() |
People can lie to intensify their own "good." Call this a "false claim." |
![]() |
People can lie to intensify
others' "bad." Call this a "false charge," or a "false witness," or a "calumny." Such aggressive lying has the strongest social and religious prohibitions against it, probably because of the potential harm done to others. To malign someone is against the law (slander and libel), and has strong religious injunctions against it. "Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor. " |
![]() |
People can lie to downplay
their own "bad." People can explicitly deny something. (Different from passive omission, evasions, or other implicit deceptions). |
![]() |
People can lie to downplay
others' "good." People can explicitly deny the "good" of others. (Different from passive neglect). |
Most people would agree that we can intensify
either with or without an intent to deceive: truths, lies, deceptions, or errors
can be repeated; things can be associated together truthfully,
deceptively, or erroneously; truths or lies can be well-composed. There's
no necessary relation between the techniques used and the intent.
However, some difficult questions occur with downplaying.
Some people may believe that downplaying is deceptive in itself,
or that evasions are intrinsically deceptive.
Although it is true that the intent to deceive may be more common and probable,
it is not intrinsic or necessarily related to the techniques of downplaying.
While some omissions may be intended to deceive, we do recognize that omissions
can also occur without the intent to deceive -- through accidental error or
because of our subjective focusing on some things, omitting others. So also,
confusion can be an unintentional error. Diversion is difficult
to explain as an accident or error, because it seems that when one diverts attention
away from a main issue, there exists intentional choice. Nevertheless, it is
a common situation to hear two people, in sincere disagreement, tell each other
"you're not listening to what I'm saying . . . you missed the whole point.
" Neither one intends to deceive, yet one person's main issue may be a
side-issue to the other; each one unintentionally diverts the incoming main
issue, treating it as a side-issue, "missing the point."
Opinions
Opinions are our personal beliefs, our subjective feelings, our judgments in
favor or against something. Opinions are conclusions, based on some observed
facts. Often opinions are formed very fast, very randomly, but they are conclusions
based on a mass of incoming data that we see, hear, or otherwise sense. We quickly
convert the conclusions into premises on which new reasoning takes place.
Once we form a strong opinion, then new incoming information gets flavored by
it. Often, to defend opinions we now hold as "true," we adjust by
filtering out new information which doesn't correspond to our held opinions.
George Lakoff emphasizes that "People think in frames.... If the facts do not fit a frame, the frame stays and the facts bounce off.... Concepts are not things that can be changed just by someone telling us the a fact. We may be presented with facts, but for us to make sense of them, they have to fit what is already in the synapses of the brain."
Opinions are treated here as the disputed borderline between
those things which are generally agreed upon to be true and those which are
generally agreed upon to be not true: most people will agree on the extremes.
The observer's interests and background influence not only the focus
(the basic selection/omission process) but also the evaluation.

Puffery is the term commonly used today to describe what
used to be called "seller's talk. " In defending puffery, advertisers
frequently like to downplay any bad connotations by adding modifiers: "mere
puffery" or "harmless puffery. " In The Great American
Blow-Up, (1975), Ivan Preston, summarizing the legal history of puffery,
states, "The law holds that people who act reasonably will automatically
distrust puffery, will neither believe it or rely upon it, and therefore cannot
be deceived by it. "
(Preston himself dissents, argues that puffery is deception, and
seeks changes in the laws: "Puffery deceives, and the regulations which
have made it legal are thoroughly unjustified.")
"By legal definition," Preston writes, "puffery is advertising
or other sales representations which praise the item to be sold with subjective
opinions, superlatives, or exaggerations, vaguely and generally, stating no
specific facts." Universal generalizations about feelings, such as "everyone
loves," or assertions that "you'll love . . . you'll feel ... just
what you've always wanted" are usually permitted by law.
True claims about specific facts and measurable items present no problem.
Some products and services are superior, the best in their category; sellers
and workers certainly have justifiable pride in making truthful claims of such
excellence. Even in cases where there might be an argument about excellence,
sometimes, an honest enthusiasm, a kind of "esprit de corporation"
might lead sellers to believe their own press releases. Extravagant claims may
exist without the intent to deceive.
False claims are both illegal and immoral. There are some practical problems
of detecting false claims. Until the late 1970s, the FTC efforts at checking
claims were random and sporadic: advertisers frequently made unsubstantiated
claims, withdrawing them only if their ads happened to be threatened with a
"cease and desist" order. After the FTC started its systematic program
to require advertisers to substantiate claims, it was swamped with masses of
paperwork, the details and statistics needed to back up the claim. There is
no simple solution to the practical problems of enforcing the law, but there's
no disagreement that false claims are both illegal and immoral.
Most borderline problems of puffery occur with parity products (those
with little or no differences) or with products, such as autos, in which the
unmeasurable qualities of personal satisfactions are very important.
Puffery can be seen both as an opinion --- and as an "expected"
fiction or hyperbole.

TRUE CLAIM ------------------- PUFFERY --------------------- FALSE CLAIM
| Legal & Moral | "Borderline" Problem Area | Illegal & Immoral |
|
" One owner ... two seats ... three ashtrays.. four
tires . . . five passengers ... six cylinders" |
"Beautiful . . . fantastic value . . . good looking ... useful ... fast ... rare ... classic ... elegant ... a real joy ... ideal " -- subjective opinions, superlatives, or exaggerations, vaguely and generally, stating no specific facts. |
"Goes 150 miles an hour ...
gets 85 miles per gallon driven less than 2,000 miles" Many false claims possible: problems may occur with detection of false claims or enforcement of laws. |
Illusions
An illusion is a misinterpretation of something really existing (in contrast
to a delusion-in which there's nothing really "out there"); the common
usage of the term suggests falseness, but is ambiguous whether we have been
mistaken or have been deceived.
Often, to be disillusioned is simply a recognition that our previously held
beliefs were simply our opinions, and not the "truth." When we speak
of someone whose illusions were shattered or destroyed, we're usually describing
a situation in which the person had totally intensified the "good"
and downplayed the "bad" of one's own position: a kind of self-deception,
not realizing that there may be other ways at looking at the same reality.
The most likely things we are apt to have illusions about are those things which
have been highly praised, intensified, idealized. Consider, for example, that
many of our religious and patriotic ideals are taught by sincere adults to young
children and are accepted, uncritically. A child often accepts opinions as "truth,"
and ideals as realities.
Later, when the person finds out that religious and political leaders have feet
of clay, or that corruption exists, or that reasonable people disagree, some
believers become disillusioned. A common reaction is overreaction: going to
the other extreme, cynicism, an attack position which intensifies the "bad,"
denies the "good" of that which had previously been idealized.
Commercial advertising is also likely to cause disillusionment because ads intensify
the "good," downplay the "bad." People who are most strongly
antagonistic toward advertising are probably those who were once believers.
Considering the way television toy commercials have hyped children in the past
generation, there may be millions of people so affected: still cynical about
advertising because of those broken promises from their childhood.
Errors
Errors are not lies. An error is unintentional; the human brain is capable of
making mistakes. Incoming messages, for example, can be misunderstood due to
noise, interruptions, ambiguity in the words or the signals; or the receivers
might be impaired physically, slightly blind or deaf, mentally retarded, fatigued,
limited in the language, or in their vocabulary. Even if none of these factors
are present, people still make mistakes because of some inner "short circuits"
in the brain. Such unintentional behavior is most dramatically seen as a result
of drugs or chemical imbalance, but everyone experiences errors daily.
While some errors may be "Freudian slips," revealing, some repressed
secret, most errors can be described almost in mechanical terms of standard
sequences of actions. In some errors, we omit a step in a sequence ("slipped
my mind," "forgot it"), or select an inappropriate step from
another sequence (pick up a ringing phone and say "Come in").We can
be focused or pre-occupied with one thing and block out other things; or we
can lose focus, get distracted and forget what we were doing.
At times we can be overloaded, disorganized, scatterbrained, with many sequences out of order. When we speak, we can be tongue-tied or have mental blocks or transpose words (Spoonerisms, for example); we can have errors in hand-eye coordination (type the wrong letter), be awkward, clumsy, stumble, "trip over one's own feet," and so on.
All are evidences of little errors, wrong connections in our
mental wiring. All of these things may affect the perception or transmission
of the "truth" of a message, yet such unintentional errors are not
considered ties.
If people are caught telling a lie, they often claim it was
an error, that is, they downplay their own "bad" because it is commonly
less serious to be guilty of an error than a lie.
Because there is difficulty in proving intent, we do have common phrases which
are used to emphasize the innocence of the speaker's intention when an error
has been committed, or to accuse another of a bad intention
| ERROR | LIE |
| (usually defensive, claims, intensifying own "good") |
(usually accusations, charges, intensifying others' "bad") |
|
"an honest error" |
"that's a
deliberate lie" "a bold-faced lie" "a brazen lie" |
Delusion, as used here, is restricted to mean that kind of error which is caused by a disorder in the nervous system, an abnormal psychotic condition of the mind. In contrast to "illusion," in which something "out there" is misinterpreted, with a delusion (or hallucination) there is nothing out there. A delusion has no basis in reality; the stimulus comes from within (e.g., the sensory hallucinations produced by LSD). However, psychoanalytical jargon ("delusions of grandeur," etc.) has been used so loosely in common speech that we're likely to hear the word used to describe any kind of fantasies, daydreams, illusions, or wishes about the future.
Fictions
Fictions are not lies. Fictions are stories and tales, plays
and dramas, "made-up" products created by the human imagination. Fictions
are not "true," but they have no intent to deceive.
The traditional theory of literature sees storytelling as a kind of imitation
of life (mimesis), a representation or recreation of the experience of life
in words. Fiction often claims a kind of universal truth, that such a thing
could have happened, or that something similar has happened, or might happen
under certain circumstances. Audiences recognize such "truth" in works
well written, and often through literature, can gain new insights into their
own lives.
Within the realm of storytelling, we can recognize extremes: at one end, we
have fantasy stories of exotic, strange, improbable or impossible things which
are obviously unreal; at the other end, we have realistic stories, with a sense
of verisimilitude -the appearance of truth or reality.
In addition to stories, "fiction" here will include certain non-literal
uses of words -- hyperbole, metaphor, and irony -- as ways we use language,
not literally true, but without intent to deceive.
Literature has certain conventions, certain customs which are mutually recognized
by writers and audiences. Conventions can involve the words used, or certain
styles of writing appropriate to certain topics. In the drama, conventions involve
all kinds of mutually-accepted stagecraft devices such as costumes, masks, scenery,
stage whispers, asides, gestures, soliloquies, and so on. Deception is not involved
here because of the audience's awareness, consent and approval. As Coleridge
phrased it, we have a "willing suspension of disbelief" which allows
us to have a literature of the imagination.
A minority opinion holds that fictions are lies. The Puritans, for example,
in 1640 closed the English theaters as being the "devil's workshop"
because they believed acting was lying. A small percentage of people, even today,
consider all fairy tales and fictions (such as Santa Claus) as lies -- shameful
and sinful.
A somewhat large number of people are literalists in language: while
they may not object to stories (or give up watching movies and TV), they do
insist on a literal interpretation of words (often involving the King James
Version of the Bible) and have a hard time with hyperbole, metaphors, and irony.
However, even if the majority opinion is accepted, that we do
have standard conventions, problems still arise because writers are notoriously
clever and inventive, coming up with new ideas, breaking old conventions, and
always making new borderline cases between fact and fiction, creating new areas
which are not covered by such mutual awareness, consent, and approval. Are these
borderline areas deceptive?
Borderline cases in literary works commonly cause trouble for critics. Anytime
there is not a clear-cut distinction between fact and fiction, there is apt
to be some kind of controversy about the borderline. The French term roman
a clef is used, for example, to describe a novel closely based on real characters
and incidents, often described as a thinly disguised fictionalized version with
minor changes in names and places. Whenever a roman a clef is published,
there's usually an argument over the key or the identifications.
While some frame devices (such as the "outside narrator" telling
a story-within-a-story, or purported "editors" who "found the
manuscript") are commonly recognized and accepted as fictions, other literary
techniques generate arguments about "reality." When Truman Capote,
for example, used the term "non-fiction fiction" to describe his book
In Cold Blood, based on an actual murder case, critics recalled
that Theodore Dreiser had used pages of verbatim courtroom transcripts worked
into An American Tragedy, a half-century earlier. The blending
of real and fictional characters and events (such as Doctorov's Ragtime,
or Dos Passos' U.S.A. trilogy, or any number of historical romances)
creates such borderline problems, leaving the reader unsure of what is "made
up" and what is not.
The New Journalism (Tom Wolfe, and others) which blends observed facts together
with the reporter's inferences, also creates borderline problems. So too, in
any book based closely on psychoanalytical case-histories or case-studies, the
clear-cut distinctions are gone.
In the movies and on television, "docu-dramas"
present a fictionalized history which can seem very authentic because of the
skillful use of camera techniques (grainy film, hand-held camera, etc.) In some
cases, film footage and clips of the "real" thing are edited together
with the dramatized portions so that it is almost impossible to separate illusion
from reality.
In 1970, a newspaper survey indicated that some Americans did not believe that
the moon landing had actually happened; they felt it had been faked by movie
and television techniques, a political hoax to deceive the public. In 1978,
a popular movie ("Capricorn One") used this as a basis for a story
about NASA faking a Mars landing in order to keep their program (and budget)
alive. In the future, borderline problems in fiction will probably become more
complicated as technical ways to reproduce and imitate become more sophisticated.
Disclaimers are often required by law to identify works of fiction. In movies,
for example, the printed disclaimer appears in the opening credits -- a long
complex phrase in fine print that goes by so quickly it is hardly noticed --
which tells us that the work is fiction and "any similarity " to real
people or real names is "purely coincidental."
Borderline cases in advertising occur in all of the media. Some television commercials,
for example, appear to be program material: they look like news
programs, interviews, or documentaries. Because of this blurring of the borderline
between program and non-program material, the FCC has required some labeling
of commercials ("Demonstration," "Dramatization"), but borderlines
constantly change and disclosure regulations are not easy to formulate.
In print media, the borderline cases are those advertisements which look like
news stories or editorial content in newspapers and magazines. These ads will
use the same style, typeface, headlines, and photos with captions, in an apparent
effort to deceive the reader into believing that an outsider was writing about
the product. By law, these ads must carry a "slug line" notice ("Advertisement"),
but this law is not very rigorously enforced.
Jokes are fictions, not meant to deceive. Americans are most accustomed to exaggeration: the tall tale, the stretcher, the whopper; British humor tends to understate. In both extremes, "truth" or "reality" is intensified or downplayed for humorous intent. We laugh at the incongruities, because we know things aren't really that way. The greater the exaggerated difference, the easier it is to recognize the humor.
A borderline case in humor is the "put-on" -- in which the message and intent are ambiguous. The audience is never quite sure whether it's "for real" or a joke: "are you putting me on?" In most kinds of kidding, the fun is in letting the victim know a trick has been played; but, the victim of a put-on never has certainty.
In informal conversation, a borderline case occurs with slightly
exaggerated storytelling, not the deliberate, obvious exaggerations of a tall
tale. Some people tend to exaggerate, inflate, embellish: intensify their own
"good" and others' "bad."
War stories told by veterans, adventures told by travelers, sporting events
recalled by fans are apt to select those details which intensify their "good"
(their courage, skill, wit, endurance, etc.) or the opposing "bad"
(the dangers, difficulties, etc.) Even everyday "adventures" are hyped
up, to make them more exciting or more interesting (to the audience? to the
storyteller?); such a tendency to make one's own stories (and life) more interesting
is rather common. Historians soon learn to take eye-witness reports with a grain
of salt.
Metaphors are not lies. Metaphors are fictional conventions. When we
metaphorically say that something is something else ("He's a tiger"
or "He's a chicken") we are not making a literal statement, but we
are implying that one has certain qualities of the other.
Many products use metaphoric names, associating the product with something favorable.
The names of automobiles, for example, are often selected for their connotations
of speed, power, sleekness, freedom, vitality: Mustang, Maverick, Pinto, Cougar,
Falcon, Skyhawk. (It's unlikely that Ford will ever feature a Sloth, Pig,
Chicken or Turkey.) Such metaphors are not deceiving. When people go to
a Ford dealer to buy a Mustang, they do not expect it, literally, to have hooves,
eat hay, and neigh.
On the other hand, if people purchase something with the name or label "Natural
Wool," "Genuine Leather," or a "Virginia ham," they
do expect it to be a certain type and quality of product, and not a metaphoric
use of the words. Such use would be deceptive: "literally misdescriptive
names."
Laws concerning deceptive product names and labeling are often much stricter
and more specific than laws about deceptive advertising in general. Names may
not be literally misdescriptive; a substitute or synthetic may not be given
a misleading name. Many strict regulations exist, for example, regarding names
of wines, liquors, foods: "Virginia ham" must be ham raised and processed
in Virginia; the term "cognac" is restricted to brandy distilled in
the Cognac region of France; "Roquefort" to that high-quality cheese
made in the village of Roquefort. In actual practice, many restaurants violate
these laws by listing "Roquefort dressing" on their menu when they
are really serving a less-expensive blue cheese. Some cities have tried to write
Truth-in-Menu ordinances to prohibit this kind of fraud, passing off frozen
vegetables as "fresh," microwave meals as "home cooking."
Hyperboles are not lies. Hyperboles are fictional conventions, figures
of speech usually defined in terms of "extravagant exaggerations."
If we say that we have a "million things to do today," or if a seller
offers "mile-high" ice-cream cones or a pocketknife with "thousands
of uses," we recognize these overstatements as hyperboles. The law generally
rules that hyperboles are not deceptive; in fact, sellers are on safer legal
grounds with such great exaggerations than with tittle overstatements closer
to the borderline of deception: to claim that a 4-blade pocketknife had 6 blades
would be false and deceptive; to claim that it had "thousands of uses"
would not be deceptive. McDonald's got in trouble with the FTC once about the
exact weight claims for its "Quarter-Pounder" hamburger, whereas Burger
King is not likely to have any problem using the vague claim implied in a "Whopper."
Irony is not a lie. Irony is a fictional convention, a figure of speech:
to say one thing and mean another, usually the exact opposite of the literal
meaning. Irony involves a double-message in which the nonverbal elements (tone
of voice, inappropriate context, use of quotation marks) overshadow the verbal.
Irony depends on an aware audience. Ironic remarks can go over the head of an
unaware audience: for example, children, speakers of a foreign language, readers
of obscure satiric literature. Irony can be missed, can be misinterpreted; receivers
can be uncertain if the message is ironic or straight ("Are you putting
me on?"). However, the usual intent of irony is to emphasize, to be witty,
to criticize, to express displeasure -- but not to deceive.
Imitations
Imitation repeats the composition pattern of something else. We can imitate,
reproduce, mimic, mock, feign, simulate, copy anything else, including actions.
Although the word "imitation" (in contrast to "real," "original,"
"genuine," "authentic") has negative overtones of something
"inferior" or "deceptive," people have always done a great
deal of imitating and copying, most of which has value and is not deceptive.
Imitation can be deceptive. Anything can be imitated; anything of value is often
imitated with intent to deceive. It's not the act of imitating, but the intent
and attempt to pass it off as original which constitutes deception. Obvious
examples of imitation with intent to deceive would be such frauds as counterfeit
money (or stocks, bonds, documents, stamps, licenses, admission tickets, etc.);
forgery (of signatures on checks, documents); art forgeries, fake antiques,
or "paste" diamonds being sold as authentic; plagiarism.
Most fraud laws are concerned with theft by deception or misrepresentation.
Because the intent to deceive is often hard to prove, some laws state that the
mere possession of certain imitations (e.g. counterfeit money) is sufficient
evidence to establish guilty intent.
In contrast to these rather clear-cut examples of imitations with intent to
deceive, there's a complex and difficult borderline area involving problems
of imitation and copying. The whole area of laws concerning copyrights and patents
is very complicated. The 1978 Copyright Law, for example, was nearly a decade
in preparation (and it appears it will be more decades in the courts) trying
to define the rights of individuals and society in the copying of information.
Suggestions
Most communication is implicit, suggested, not specifically stated. In person-to-person
speech-and in its electronic extension, television, we imply most of our meanings.
Most of these suggestions are probably nonverbal: the facial expressions (smiles,
frowns), body gestures (shrugs, waving, pointing), the pauses and pacing of
our speech, the dress and ornaments worn, the possessions displayed (cars, homes),
the location and context of our messages.
Even most of our verbal transactions are made up of fragments
of sentences, brief words ("you know . . you know . .") which,
together with eye-contact, or the situation, send messages which the person
"completes" as they are being received.
Such implicit communication leads our audience to make the final step, to "jump
to a conclusion. " The speaker sets up a common or expected sequence
of thought, but does not totally complete the sequence. Or, we set a common
or expected pattern or context, leaving the audience "to fill in the
blanks," or put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Most implied language requires cooperation, an action by the receiver, who infers,
makes an inference, completing the logical sequence or pattern which had been
implied, suggested. Because we normally spend our lives doing such routine completing
of sequences, it's very common to "jump to conclusions." Implicit
messages can be either truthful or deceptive, but we normally don't consider
jumping to conclusions a problem -- except when we are deceived.
We speak in such shorthand very commonly, implying more than we actually say explicitly, and most of our implications are not deceptive. But, just as any explicit statement can be a lie by intent, so also any implicit communication can be intended to deceive.
In terms of persuasion, the association technique is frequently
used as a way of suggesting. The persuader need not explicitly state a relationship:
simply by placing the product (or person, etc.) together with something
already desired by or loved by the intended audience (or hated
or feared, if "attack" propaganda), the associative link is
made. Such suggestions can be truthful, or deceptive.
Just as words can have multiple meanings, so also implied messages such as nonverbal
gestures can have multiple meanings. Although most people do learn to "read"
and "understand" such implicit messages, we don't have the same degree
of clarity in defining them as we do with words. Although there is a growing
interest in the topic, "dictionaries" of nonverbal gestures are still
in their infancy.
Implied language requires co-operation, an action by the
receiver, who infers, makes an inference, completing the logical sequence or
pattern which had been implied, suggested by the sender.
Because we normally spend our lives doing such routine completing of sequences,
it's very common to "jump to conclusions."
Implicit messages can be either truthful or deceptive, but we normally don't
consider "jumping to conclusions" a problem -- except when we are
deceived. Many students confuse these two important words (imply
/ infer). Here are some other ways to express it:
|
IMPLICATION |
INFERENCE |
| The sender IMPLIES an indirect message, an unexpressed message, an incomplete messaget to suggest, to hint, to imply. |
The receiver INFERS brings in, links up, deduces, derives, concludes, puts together, surmises, anticipates guesses at: the expected pattern or logical sequence |
Evasions
Most implications, suggestions, hints are leading toward a conclusion; but
evasions are leading away from a completion of a sequence. Evasions
prevent or delay the receivers from completing a sequence. One reason why
we dislike evasive language (used by others) is the frustration we have at
this lack of closure.
Evasions are used to defend against a possible harm,
a danger perceived. In physical terms, evasion may mean to run, flee, get
away, dodge, hide, disguise; the phrase "evasive action" may give
mental pictures of zig-zagging, or unpredictable irregular motions away from
"closure" by the pursuer.
Because evasions are defensive, in reaction to a threat, they are more likely
to occur spontaneouly in the give-and-take situations of private life; and,
in public language, during political arguments or impromptu interviews
There are fewer evasions in advertising simply because advertisers purchase
the time or the space to present one view, to intensify their own "good".
In this purchased time, ads are free from attack, have no need to take evasive
action. So it's more likely that we'll speak about a politician being evasive
in response to reporters' questions.
In language usage today, most of what we call "evasion" has bad connotations; to be evasive is to be "slippery as an eel," "hard to pin down," or someone who uses "weasel words. "
Most evasions can be described here as omissions (silence,
half-truths) or diversions ("changing the subject," jargon,
ambiguous words or phrasing, vague abstractions, double messages, etc.).
In addition, there are certain qualifiers, words which stress uncertainty:
maybe, perhaps, possibly, sometimes, may, might, guess, estimate, in
some cases.
Consider the spontaneous evasions, unpremeditated, which might occur if an angry father were to ask his teen-age son, "Did you take the car last night?" In this example, "no' would be a lie.
| External Response | Comment |
| Silence. No response. | "Stonewalling" it. Legally, silence does not convict. Socially, most people would infer guilt; "silence means consent." |
| Silence. Horizontal Head-Nod (Internal response: " I didn't say no. ") | Nonverbal message implies no; deception, but not a lie. |
No.(Internal response: "I borrowed it" or "It was early this morning.") |
Lie, but mental reservation. Quibbling. overprecision, nitpicking. |
What did you say? Would you repeat the question? I didn't hear what you said. Would you repeat the question? Why do you ask? Why? Did something happen? How could I? |
Stalling for time, often while mentally processing options, degree of threat, risks, and consequences (of a "caught lie," straight truth). |
| Why are you always picking on me? You're always accusing me. Do you think I would? |
Diversions. Ad hominem attacks against father, trying to divert attention from main issue. |
| I don't remember. I can't recall. | To plead uncertainty about a recent past event usually requires additional reasons ("I was too drunk") often more of a problem. |
| Yes. Don't make such a fuss. Certainly. It's only... Sure. Why not? |
Truthful admission. Quick diversion, downplaying importance or intensifying another issue. |
| Yes. (sobbing) I'm sorry. Yes. I didn't mean any harm. Yes. I didn't know I that shouldn't |
Truthful admission can be quickly followed by a plea for mercy, a claim of ignorance, of error, or of good intentions --i.e. intensifying own "good." |
Don't underestimate the potential complexity of evasion.
This example of a son, threatened, evading the question of an angry father
simply suggests some of the quick answers, unpremeditated spontaneous replies
that might occur. If so many evasive answers about a simple situation can come
so quickly from an unprepared amateur, consider also that sophisticated professionals,
involved in complex situations, with prior knowledge, preparation, and planning,
can produce some very complicated evasions -- which are sometimes deceptive.
People can deceive with evasions. In courtrooms, for example, witnesses
under oath and afraid of lying (which would be perjury) might use deceptive
evasions, claiming loss of memory ("I can't recall") or stressing
vague memory ("As I recollect now . . . to the best of my memory"),
or non-responsibility or non-awareness ("I was too drunk"), or any
excuse to conceal intent to deceive.
In political situations, people have used evasive tactics to deceive. In recent
years, presidents and others have used "executive privilege" and have
invoked secrecy, National Security, Higher Authority ("I'm not at liberty
to tell you . . . I can't release that information") as deceptive excuses
to evade questioning. For example, Congressional investigations of White
House actions are often long delayed by evasions and legal manuevers (e.g. official
investigations into the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks, and V-P Richard Cheney's secret
meetings about energy policy in 2000 are still stalled, after almost 3 years).
When evasion is used to deceive, it's often not effective. Some people, for example, if they receive an evasive answer will infer (correctly or incorrectly) that the evasion is deceptive.
Evasion is not necessarily deceptive. People do evade direct responses for reasons other than deception, reasons they would call prudence, caution, discretion, flexibility -- keeping your options open. "
Evasion can often be an appropriate response. One of
the "counter-propaganda axioms," for example, recommends "when
they intensify, downplay." An evasive answer is a form of downplaying,
frequently an appropriate response when pressured by a seller who seeks to close
a sale. The seller seeks closure, a "straight" yes-or-no answer; but
we often evade: "I'll have to ask my wife . . . I'll have to see my husband
about it." Evasion? Yes. Deception? Depends on the intent.
Politicians and diplomats are frequently criticized for their evasive answers.
But many evasions are very appropriate in order to avoid simplistic thinking
or dangerous consequences. Many news reporters use "leading questions,"
for example, to try to lead politicians into a yes/no response to a complex
question. If a reporter were to ask a presidential candidate during an election
campaign "Would you ever use the H Bomb?" -- a simple yes or
no answer would lead to headlines: JONES WOULD USE BOMB or JONES WOULD NEVER
USE BOMB.
Most experienced politicians would reply with qualifications ("Under
certain circumstances . . .") or hypotheticals ("If
the situation were . . ."), appropriate evasions in response to questions
which omit qualifications, oversimplify complex issues.
The use of vague abstractions also allows
flexibility. In a threat situation, for example, it's often better for a diplomat
to threaten a vague "appropriate action" than to specify a specific
response ("We'll bomb Moscow"). This vagueness gives both sides some
leeway to compromise without losing face or being forced to go ahead with the
threat.
Intrusive questions into the private lives of some public figures would be another
example of a reasonable use of evasive answers ("no comments") as
a way of protecting a right of privacy.
Everyone agrees that there are times when a specific, direct
statement is necessary. But fewer people recognize that there are times when
a vague or evasive answer is also appropriate. Some readers might prefer a blanket
condemnation of evasion. But evasion is a human behavior, sometimes appropriate
to a situation, sometimes effective, sometimes with no intent to deceive, sometimes
deceptive for a "good" purpose.
Evasions in time are common: stalling for time, delaying tactics, preventing
closure. Many legal maneuvers are designed to stall; sometimes this can
be draining on the opponent who does not have the money or endurance. Lawyers
who "have the meter running" may not care how long it takes to settle
a case. Yet, all time delays need not be evil, wasteful, or deceptive; certainly
there are situations in which it is reasonable and proper to "take a break,"
"let things cool down," or "let the dust settle."
Promises And Threats
Promises and threats about the future can be deceptive or not, again, it is the intent which is important. The common problems involved in such future promises are usually related to not fulfilling a promise, or contradicting it. Both of these could be intentionally deceptive. However, there could be other factors involved: inability (impotency, weakness, people sometimes promise more than they can deliver); circumstances (accidents do happen, times change, this is not a static world); errors (mistakes in judgment, planning, execution).
Deceptive intent may be difficult to prove. But reasonable people can make other judgments about promises or threats involving the future. We judge such things on our estimate of their reasonableness, on the ability to be fulfilled under normal conditions. Desire alone ("wishful thinking") does not guarantee a future event. If someone does not have the means to an end, the power and the opportunity, then we dismiss such foolish promises and idle threats.
Borderline problems concerning errors usually are about issues
of responsibility and culpable ignorance. Responsibility involves a duty, obligation,
or legal liability because of (1) the job, role, or function of someone; (2)
their training, experience, or expertise; (3) their receipt of benefits, usually
money.
Responsibility can be established in many different ways (law, custom, prior
agreement, contract, consent), but basically the key questions are: Was it your
job? Did you know how to do it? Were you getting paid to do it? The most common
excuses to defend an error are usually: "It wasn't my job" (denying
responsibility) or "I didn't know" (ignorance). "You should have
known," is the common response. If you function in the job, and receive
the benefits, then you have the obligation to know, otherwise it is culpable
ignorance.
Good Intentions ... Bad Results
Opinions, errors, and fictions have been treated here in terms of their non-intent
to deceive; the essence of lies and other deceptions is in the intent to deceive.
Digging deeper into human motives we can ask: "Why do people intend
to deceive others?"
The assumption here is that people seek to gain a benefit, either
as a defensive measure or as offensive attack. Deception, which is successful
or effective, does give the deceiver an advantage both in defense and offense.
What is an advantage to one person, may not be to another. What is an advantage
to an individual, may be a disadvantage to the society.
Thus, societies have strong codes against deception to protect the common good.
There would be many more frauds, tricks, lies, and deceptions if there were
not laws and penalties established to deter individuals from taking advantage
of others. It's easy to see the bad intentions involved in such aggressive exploitation
as deliberately deceptive advertising, or frauds, or con games. But, if we exclude
these extreme cases, we find that most lies are told with good intentions. Good
intentions, however, may have bad results.
Certain situations increase the potential for deception. In
defensive situations, the greater the threat, the more likely people are to
use lies and deceptions in their defense. To reduce deception, reduce the threat.
In everyday situations, it's common to hear people who are seeking the truth
to guarantee safety to other persons: "I promise I won't hit you . . .
won't be mad at you . . . if you tell me the truth." In criminal law, it's
common practice to grant immunity to certain key witnesses to gain their truthful
testimony by reducing a threat.
In attack situations, the reverse tactics are useful. Aggression is more likely
to occur in situations in which it will be most successful, that is, where a
gain can be made without danger to the aggressor.
Therefore, to reduce aggressive deception, increase the threat or penalty, make
it more risky for the deceiver. Society, through governments, can create strong
deterrents against aggressive deception by strong individuals or groups: fraud
laws and the regulations against deceptive advertising are good examples. A
great deal of progress has been made in the recent past and such appropriate
efforts should continue.
Less has been done, however, to reduce the aggressive deceptions by governments
abusing power. Although the stakes may be higher, we have relatively fewer controls.
While some progress has been made recently in terms of disclosure laws (Freedom
of Information Act, reforms of classified secrets, etc.), we don't have adequate
laws or penalties to cope with the aggressive lies which can be told by politicians
and bureaucrats.
White Lies
"White lies" suggest lies about trivial matters -- fibs -- or harmless
lies told for good purposes: benevolent lies, for the benefit of others, and
paternalistic lies.
Benevolent lies are often related to civility, the care and consideration
for the feelings of others. Examples of such lies, which promote a general social
bonding, include: polite social formulas ("nice to see you");
polite false excuses ("I can't go tomorrow," instead of "I
don't want to"); flattery ("you look so nice today");
polite false gratitude ("just what I always wanted"); placebos
(given by doctors); inflated grades (given by teachers, as the norm goes up);
and pro forma letters of recommendation ("outstanding work").
Paternalistic lies are those told to protect, to shield, to comfort,
to encourage, to stroke, to nurture, to defend young children from harsh truths
and realities with which they're not yet able to cope.
Other lies with good intentions include lying for self-defense, to protect one's
own right of privacy, to ward off unwarranted requests and illegitimate questions.
Bok speaks of mutual deceits, of a "quite common, often poignant human
arrangement," in which people, by mutual understanding, knowingly continue
a serious game of deceit: "Most friendships and families rely upon some
such reciprocity to sustain illusions, suppresses some memory too painful to
confront, and give support where it is needed."
All of these examples of well-intentioned lies are quite common in everyday
life. We need not think of extreme situations (lying to a murderer seeking information,
lying to save a life, etc.) to demonstrate what Aquinas termed "helpful"
lies.
Assume that every lie can be defended, by the liar, as having good intentions.
Benevolence and justice are the two major defenses that most people will
use to explain their reasons for lying and deception. These two reasons apply
not only to the common excuses offered for everyday "white lies,"
but also to the elaborate rationales concocted by business and political leaders
explaining their reasons for wholesale deception.
Benevolence, here, means that the liar's intention is to do good or avoid evil.
Self-defense, survival, preservation are often claimed as the basis for a lie:
"if I didn't say that, then harm would have come to me." However,
usually such an excuse is accompanied by an emphasis on altruistic motives:
the "self" has been extended to include a wider group-family, friends,
kin, group, nation. When people lie, they usually claim that they are selflessly
doing good for the benefit of the wider group.
Political lies, for example, are often defended, by the liars,
in terms of "national security," "national defense," "national
unity," "party unity," and so on. Commercial lies (or "occupational
lies") such as deceptive advertising, are often rationalized in terms of
"keeping the system going," of "just doing one's job ... doing
what I'm told. " The on-the-job liar also seeks to avoid evil -- losing
a job, perhaps. The greater good of the whole is used by many people within
corporations or organizations, a kind of plea to a higher law justifying that
any lies they tell will basically or eventually be doing good for the organization,
or the wider society.
Justice is the other basic defense of the liar. Everyone is in favor of justice.
Everyone defends their own positions as being fair, and, in conflict situations,
defends their own actions as seeking an equality which is just. But each claims
that the other side violates justice.
The "Haves" seek to maintain balance, to preserve the status quo,
the way things "should be." To them, others are unjustly seeing to
upset justice, to destroy, to usurp, to take away that which they have earned,
worked for and deserve, their "just rewards." The "Have-Nots"
seek for a justice which they feel has been denied to them; the "Have-nots"
want fairness, justice, and their "just rewards," too. In this situation,
everyone can defend their lies by claiming that the deception was done in the
ultimate service of justice. Retribution ("an eye for an eye") also
implies the element of justice: we punish people, seek retribution, give our
enemies "what they deserve," all in the name of justice.
Political lies often involve additional factors, such as a sense of duty, frequently
a sense of crisis, and, concerning lies from the leaders, a sense of superiority.
The sense of duty that people have when working for a country or a "cause"
is much more intense than the mere occupational task of doing a job. People
involved in a "cause" (political, religious, racial) with great emotional
meaning to them are apt to justify deceptions almost as a solemn duty or obligation.
In many political situations, the sense of crisis or urgency also is used to
defend lying: "If we had more time, we'd be able to give out the real information
. . . the time isn't right now . . . the situation is too delicate . . . history
will confirm the wisdom of our decisions."
The sense of superiority is frequently found in the justifications given by
political leaders to defend their lies. While this might be expected from a
dictator or a tyrant, it's especially inappropriate and ironical coming from
the elected leaders of democratic countries.
Yet, recent American presidents have given ample evidence of this elitist feeling
of superiority, a smug paternalism, that the leaders are justified in lying
to the people because the leaders have greater understanding, insight, knowledge,
and judgment. The common people are seen as unsophisticated, unable to cope
with bad news, unable to understand or respond appropriately, too emotional,
too ignorant to see the big picture. Thus, our leaders lie to us, with good
intentions.
In The Politics of Lying, (1973) David Wise claims that the major
political development in recent years has been the growth of systematic deception
of the American people by its own leaders and government. From the U2 affair
in Eisenhower's administration to the early days of Nixon's Watergate affair,
the book focuses on the growth of deceptive practices and the changing relationships
of the government and the people.
Wise points out the danger of this tendency: "The consent of the governed
is basic to American democracy. If the governed are misled, if they are not
told the truth, or if through official secrecy and deception they lack information
on which to base intelligent decisions, the system may go on-but not as a democracy.
After nearly two hundred years, this may be the price America pays for the politics
of lying. "
President Lyndon Johnson's lies about his strategy in Vietnam certainly contributed
to his election victory in 1964; Barry Goldwater had been labeled the war candidate,
while Johnson made promises of peace, in lies which were not exposed until the
famous Pentagon Papers were released years later.
In Lying, Bok uses the example of LBJ as a crucial moral and political
problem: "President Johnson thus denied the electorate any chance to give
or to refuse consent to the escalation of the war in Vietnam. Believing they
had voted for the candidate of peace, American citizens were, within months,
deeply embroiled in one of the cruelest wars in their history. Deception of
this kind strikes at the very essence of democratic government, It allows those
in power to override or nullify the right vested in the people to cast an informed
vote in critical elections. Deceiving the people for the sake of the people
is a self-contradictory notion in a democracy."
Every recent political and governmental deception has been defended,
by the liars, in terms of good intentions: doing good, avoiding evil, seeking
justice and fairness, doing one's duty in a crisis, knowing better than others
-what's really best for the country.
The deceived public, however, has not expressed a reciprocal gratitude for being
lied to and deceived. When the lies are exposed, most people are outraged that
the leaders have betrayed the public trust. From the outside, the liar's "good
intentions" are seen to be self-serving rationalizations to retain power,
to cover up errors, embarrassments, vindictiveness, corruption, minor vices
and major abuses.
Two common reactions to political lies are vague indignation
and cynical resignation.
Cynical resignation leads some people to shrug their shoulders, and say that
"nothing can be done ... all politicians lie anyway." Vague indignation
leads some people to quick anger that "something ought to be done,"
which often turns to frustration when complex problems do not yield quick and
easy solutions.
Both extremes can be avoided. In a democracy, we can make progress,
or at least move toward an equilibrium to counterweight the problems of political
deception. We can reward genuine honesty and candor of political leaders who
admit to doubt and difficulties. We can support legislation which encourages
openness in government and that which penalizes deception. We can value a free
press and the essential role of the investigative journalist, the reformer,
and the gadfly.
We can teach young citizens the realities of human rationalizations. The more
citizens, for example, who know the patterns and probabilities that "national
security" and "good intentions" will be dragged out to support
every lie, the less likely the excuse will be effective.
Deception, like violence, has always been a part of the human
condition. To recognize this does not endorse deception nor justify inaction.
We do take actions to control violence, to reduce the degree, to limit the kinds,
to reduce the causes and ameliorate the effects.
Although violence exists, and "everybody does it," we do not simply
shrug our shoulders and say "nothing can be done about it." So also
we can take actions to reduce deception within our society.
If a democratic society is to remain free, citizens should not be encouraged
to be docile, trusting, and naive. If any statement can be a lie, any behavior
deceptive, and all lies and deceptions defended for their good intentions, we're
not likely to find simple solutions.
Our best defense may be in our ability to analyze language, to make critical
judgments, to transform vague trust or distrust into specific acceptance or
rejection. We can do this better if we are more aware of the borderlines, more
conscious to distinguish lies and deception from errors, opinions, and fictions;
if we recognize the common situations in which deceptions are more probable,
and the common excuses and justifications offered by the deceivers.
Lying: Moral Choice in Public and Private Life
By Sissela Bok (New York: Pantheon, 1978) --- a review by Hugh Rank
(College English, April 1979)
UBIQUITOUS. UNIVERSALLY DENOUNCED. Everyone's against lying
and red tape. With such widespread condemnation, it is odd that very few
people have written about these troublesome topics which have stimulated
many complaints but little analysis. But now the scant quantity is made
up for by the high quality of two recent books. Both are examples of the
value of good intellects brought to bear on practical problems. Bok teaches
ethics at Harvard Medical School; Kaufman is a Senior Fellow at Brookings.
Both have focused on problems on which everyone has an opinion, but few
have any real insight. Bok's Lying emphasizes choice-- "moral
choice in public and private life" -- whereas an undercurrent in Kaufman's
Red Tape suggests that things are in control; his book is perhaps
more of an essay about coping, or making do, rather than choosing.
For English teachers (journalists, political scientists, citizens, whoever)
concerned with the public uses of language, these are important books. Anyone
dealing with the analysis of advertising or political propaganda must eventually
confront the issue of lying; anyone interested in the composition process,
how things are organized and disorganized -- may be interested in the complex
problem of red tape.
Lying, which won the George Orwell award of the NCTE Committee on
Public Doublespeak, is a great contribution to the study of public language.
Now we have a reasonable starting point. Before this book, the reader had
to search for obscure fragments, unravel knotty philosophical arguments
entangled in grotesque prose. Bok's book is a jargon-free synthesis of the
major issues involved in lying (intent, result, context, circumstances instances,
etc.) and a cogent summary of the views of various philosophers. In addition,
the book is filled with relevant examples from contemporary politics ( LBJ,
Watergate) and ethical problems in professional and academic life.
Simply as a reference book, Lying has great value.
Nowhere else can one find a survey of philosophical commentary on lying
so clearly presented. In addition, the appendix gathers together forty pages
of relevant excerpts from works by Augustine, Aquinas, Bacon, Grotius, Kant,
Sidgwick, Harrod, Bonhoeffer, and Warnock.
Bok's approach is probing and tentative, seeking for some criteria, for
some theory of moral choice, which will be appropriate as a guide for the
many moral decisions we are confronted with in everyday life. Although issues
of truth-telling or deception are probably some of the most common choices
we make, relatively little attention has been given to them by moralists.
What little there is, is often ambiguous.
The major philosophical and religious traditions have always allowed some
lee-way in concerning all lies. Only a few writers (Augustine and Kant,
for example) are absolutists, prohibiting all lies. Mainstream moralists
have allowed some lies to be excusable, either by pardoning those told with
"good intentions," or by manipulating the definitions of lying
so as to leave loopholes, such as "mental reservation" (internal
disclaimers) and misleading statements. Together with good intentions and
plausible justifications, such tactics have been used often in the past
to illustrate those standard textbook cases of lying to a thief, lying to
a murderer seeking a victim, lying to save an innocent, and other such rare
events.
Bok does not accept the absolutist position, nor does she
totally accept the utilitarian position of judging the ethics of a lie by
estimating its consequences. She believes this latter position to be that
lies are basically neutral, or equivalent to truthful statements, apart
from their harm or benefit. She disagrees: "most lies do have negative
consequences for liars, dupes, all those affected, and for social trust."
Her way out of the dilemma is to assign lies a "negative weight."
In contrast to "shallowness of the intuitive utilitarian approach which
has regarded them [lies] as harmless, " Bok would recommend an "initial
presumption" against lies. "Utilitarians," she writes, "could
view the negative weight instead as a correction, endorsed by experience,
of the inaccurate and biased calculations of consequences made by any one
liar."
My reaction to this negative weight penalty is to call attention to her
reference to George Steiner's comment on the survival value of lying: "Fiction
was disguise . . . to misinform, to utter less than the truth was to gain
a vital edge of space or substance. Natural selection would favor the contriver."
Indeed. I would argue further that deception is a survival behavior, and
that successful deception, whether in attack or defense, gives the deceiver
an advantage over the deceived. I cannot think of a situation, whether in
animal behavior or human affairs, in which effective deception does not
give an advantage, a kind of "positive weight" to the deceiver.
However, deceptions which may benefit the individual may harm another or
the social good. Society must so act to counterbalance the individual's
advantage in deceiving. Society establishes laws against certain deceptions,
and its members subscribe to a code of secular ethical standards and religious
sanctions favoring truthtelling and condemning deception, especially aggressive
deception such as "bearing false witness." (The "loopholes"
in traditional theories are, perhaps without exception, related to defensive
lying, either self-defense or defense of others who are weak.)
I see Professor Bok as functioning, properly, in the role of moralist, a
representative of the social group, seeking to keep social penalties ("a
negative weight") against lying. It is easy to condemn liars with bad
intentions, to condemn aggressive exploitation, deliberate frauds, calculated
con games. But Bok is primarily concerned with lies told with "good
intentions," including what we commonly call "white lies"
about trivial matters, and "harmless lies" told for the benefit
of others. Such benevolent lies are often related to civility and social
bonding, including false excuses, flattery, inflated grades, and pro forma
letters of recommendation.
Bok gives several chapters to a discussion of lies endemic to the learned
professions, problems involving confidentiality with clients, fidelity toward
colleagues, and professional responsibilities as they are related to truthfulness,
Her closest attention is given to an examination of medical ethics, especially
involving lies told to the sick and dying. Applying the "negative weight"
concept here, she admits the moral necessity, at times, of deception, but
emphasizes that it should be the last alternative. In contrast, she strongly
attacks the widespread attitude within the social sciences today which uses
deliberate deception" (cover stories, disguises) as the first alternative
in research.
Political lies, as they are analyzed by Bok, may be of greatest interest
to readers concerned with "public doublespeak." Assume that every
lie can be defended, by the liar, as having "good intentions."
Benevolence and justice are the two major "defenses" offered not
only for everyday "white lies," but also for the elaborate rationales
concocted by business and political leaders explaining their reasons for
wholesale deception. Benevolence, here, means that the liar's intention
is to do good or avoid evil (self-defense, survival, preservation), usually
accompanied by an emphasis on altruistic motives: the "self' has been
extended to include a wider group, family, friends, kin, group, nation.
Political lies, for example, are defended, by the liars, in terms of "national
security," "national defense," or "the good of the party."
Commercial lies (or "occupational lies"), such as deceptive advertising,
are rationalized in terms of "keeping the system going."
Justice is the other basic defense of the liar. Everyone defends his or
her own position as "being fair," as seeking an equality which
is just. But each claims "the other side" violates justice. The
"Haves" seek to maintain balance, to preserve the statis quo,
the way things "should be," to protect that which they have earned,
worked for, deserve, their "just reward." The "Have-nots"
seek for a justice which they feel has been denied to them; the "Have-nots
want fairness, justice, their "just rewards" too. In this situation,
deception is often done in the name of Justice.
Political lies often involve additional factors, such as a sense of duty,
frequently a sense of crisis, and a sense of superiority. While such condescension
might be expected from a dictator or a tyrant, it is especially inappropriate
and ironical coming from the elected leaders of democratic countries. Yet
recent American presidents have given ample evidence of this elitist paternalism,
that leaders are justified in lying to the people because the leaders have
greater understanding, insight, knowledge, and judgment. The "common
people" are seen as unsophisticated, unable to cope with bad news,
unable to understand or respond appropriately, too emotional, too ignorant
to see the "big picture." Thus, our leaders lie to us, with "good
intentions."
Readers seeking solutions or easy answers to the problems of lying will
not find them in Bok's book. This may disappoint many people who simply
want a "lie detector" (or Hemingway's "built-in crap detector")
to find out how to spot other people's lies. My students are always disappointed
when I tell them that any statement can be a lie, any behavior deceptive,
and there is no foolproof way to detect lies and deceptions. But they want
a way, they want certitude, as most people do, and are intrigued by the
promises of chemical or electronic certitude: voice-stress analyzers are
the latest to promise instant-relief to our problems here. Such electronic
wizardry follows in a hallowed tradition of promised panaceas, but, like
all truth-tcsts in the past (trial by fire, walking on water, "truth
serums"), there still seem to be a few bugs in the system.
One of Bok's main purposes in her book is to encourage public discussion
of ethical issues that have been so long ignored. Her book is illuminating,
but not all the issues have been explored. In fact, by focusing on lying
-- which is narrowly defined as "any intentionally deceptive message
which is stated" -- she deliberately omits "other forms of deception
such as evasion or the suppression of relevant information." To tackle
everything at once might be overwhelming, but "if some clarity can
be brought to questions about actual lying, then the vaster problems of
deception will seem less defeating."
Several years ago, in writing about the language of Watergate
(Language and Public Policy, [Urbana, Ill.: NCTE, 19741, p.
5), I argued for the need of such analysis of deception: "People well
understand deliberate falsification, lying under oath, perjury. But very
little attention is given by ministers, moralists or churchgoers to passive
deception, signs of omissions, calculated silence and secrecy, evasions
and half truths."
Since that time much of my work has focused on these techniques (a book
will he finished this year) detailing how people can deceive others. Until
Bok published her book, I had avoided a consideration of "actual lying,"
because I felt that the ethical problems involved (of what people should
and shouldn't do) would further complicate the mere technical problems
of what people can do with their language. Bok's book has
been very helpful in clarifying some of the ethical issues, and I am pleased
that she has responded favorably after reading some of my draft chapters.
Most college professors of English are ignorant about lying and deception.
(Three associate professors have just started writing their Indignant Replies!)
In truth, it would be a "polite fiction" - a "white lie"
- to credit my colleagues with any more information or awareness about lying
and deception than the average person who knows about lies from random personal
experience. After all, none of us learned much in formal education about
the whys or the ways of lying. But we do need to know more.
As teachers of language in the world's most powerful country, we need to
focus more attention on some of the key problems of public language. We
need to re-assess priorities in our own teaching and within the profession.
Even after we grant individual taste and subjective preferences, we must
debate and argue social priorities. As far as the communitas is concerned,
some aspects of language study are more important than others.
Although all of the various factions within the NCTE may claim their
interest should have top priority, I suggest that one might seek some "outside
criteria" to validate claims. For example, advertising expenditures
have more than doubled in the past eight years. In 1971, when the NCTE passed
a resolution to "do something" to "prepare children to cope
with commercial propaganda," American advertisers spent $20 billion;
in 1978, $43 billion in the most sophisticated propaganda blitz in history.
In response, the NCTE has done almost nothing. As a member of the NCTE Committee
on Public Doublespeak, I will grant that this group has done something (two
books, a few dozen articles, some convention speeches). But, in perspective,
we have had little effect either within or on that "outside world."
However limited or unfruitful, the efforts are justified; the problems really
exist. Perhaps this review, and Bok's book, and others can nudge in a few
more people who will devote more time to certain problems of public language.
If so, they will find that there are some lively controversies going on
right now concerning lying and deception in advertising. The FTC Hearings
on Television Advertising to Children in February of this year, for example,
focused on a 365 page FTC staff report which argues persuasively that some
advertising messages can be inherently deceptive because of the inequality
of the situation: a three-year old child is simply unable to understand
the sophisticated persuasion techniques used by the advertisers.
Another complex problem currently being probed by the FTC is the issue of
deception by omission, implicit verbal statements, and nonverbal suggestions.
Marshall McLuhan, in Understanding Media, noted how limited
is the "word-oriented" FTC (and lawyers, in general) in determining
deception. "Puffery" ("seller's talk"subjective opinions,
exaggerations), for example, is a perennial problem. In The Great
American Blow-Up (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1975),
a history of legal decisions about exaggerated advertising claims, Ivan
Preston argues that puffery should be banned as deceptive. I tolerate most
puffery -- as the courts do -- as "nondeceptive fiction." English
teachers can follow such questions and controversies in the extensive coverage
of the weekly trade paper, Advertising Age, an important source
for anyone interested in public language.
Thus, if you are in the mood to start focusing more attention on public
language, or more specifically on the problems of lying and deception, there
are some interesting things being published now. (I haven't even mentioned
political lying: books like David Wise, The Politics of Lying).
But, I would recommend that Bok's Lying be one of the first
books on your list in order to get some kind of ethical perspective on the
various specific issues.
Of related interest, see: David Corn,
The Lies of George W. Bush (2003)
From the Introduction: "George W Bush is a liar.
He has lied large and small. He has lied directly and by omission. He
has misstated facts, knowingly or not. He has misled. He has broken promises,
been unfaithful to political vows. Through his campaign for the presidency
and his first years in the White House, he has mugged the truth -- not
merely in honest error, but deliberately, consistently, and repeatedly
to advance his career and his agenda. Lying greased his path toward the
White House; it has been one of the essential tools of his presidency.
To call the 43rd president of the United States a prevaricator is not
an exercise of opinion, not an inflammatory talk-radio device. This insult
is supported by an all too extensive record of self-serving falsifications.
So constant is his fibbing that a history of his lies offers a close approximation
of the history of his presidential tenure."
Yet, after 300 pages of documenting the President's deceptive evasions, omissions, implications, misstatements, errors, (about the Iraq war, tax cuts, corporate scandals, September 11th, and so on), the author has to qualify the term "liar" because, precisely speaking, a lie involves the intent to deceive: "Does Bush believe his own lies? Did he truly consider a WMD-loaded Saddam Hussein an imminent threat to the United States? Or was he knowingly employing dramatic license because he wanted war for other reasons?" (p.320)
Such a book points out the limits of my essay's simple sorting-out process. I could point out to David Corn that Bush's deceptions were not, technically, lies -- because we don't know if the President really knew something was untrue and he intended to deceive. But, this kind of linguistic precision doesn't help much. I would assume that -- in any situation -- the President would claim "good intentions." Thus, our focus should be on consequences.
David Corn concluded with a chapter speculating about the credibility issue: while activists and extremists may have been enraged, the mainstream media treated the credibility gap almost as a charming idiosyncracy, naughty but harmless. Why was the press -- and the public -- so easy on the President's deceptions? Was it a show of support for a wartime president? Was it a partisan thing? Republicans were furious about President Clinton's evasions ("What 'is' is?") and his mental reservation in defining "having sex" ('I did not have sex with that woman."), but Democrats were more tolerant ("boys will be boys") and afterwards Clinton's popularity remained strong. In terms of his image, Clinton may not have been trustworthy in his personal life, but he was competent in public affairs, and benevolent ("on our side"). So also, President Bush, despite his inexpereience and errors, seemed well intentioned and was well liked ("on our side') by his supporters who were more tolerant of his exaggerations.