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A friend, the editor of Psychologies, called me: “Tell me, are you able to tell everyone the only truth for about a couple of days, and then share your feelings with us and our readers?” I replied that of course I could. And, (without) thinking, I took up this task.
Monday evening
On the eve of the experiment
The bright idea that one should always tell only the truth and nothing but the truth, my friend admitted, does not belong to her. And not even her magazine.
“There is this American psychiatrist Brad Blanton,” she explained to me, “who is absolutely convinced that we would all be much happier if we stopped lying. Moreover, he argues that we should literally force ourselves to tell only the truth. Anytime and anywhere. Remove the barrier between your own thoughts and words.
Her call sounded in my office in the morning, and during the remaining working day I managed to share the idea with others. It is noteworthy that several acquaintances reacted in exactly the same way to my plan not to lie for two whole days. They asked to inform them in advance about the dates on which the triumph of truth is scheduled, so that “it is not even an hour, do not call, do not come in.”
Let’s say a lie is at the zero level of truthfulness, and the truth is at a hundredth. What if you’re stuck somewhere in the middle?
I think it was a joke. But there was a clear hint in it, firstly, that they do not doubt my unbridled lies, and, secondly, that the truth, which I am probably hiding, is unpleasant. And this is not so! Not this way. In general, I prefer to tell the truth, and this is the pure truth.
However, before indulging in this useful habit non-stop, I nevertheless compiled a list of possible risks. Where, with whom and when can my truth be inappropriate?
One friend can call and ask if I liked his book. I didn’t like her, but I’d rather answer evasively. A close friend who is now having big family problems will definitely call. She keeps asking, “What should I do?” To me, her husband is disgusting, and it is high time to kick him out, but we never give such advice to each other. But can my silence be considered a lie?
Difficult thoughts about what is true and what is false led me to the following conclusions: between truth and falsehood there are many halftones, intermediate stations. Let’s say a lie is at the zero level of truthfulness, and the truth, say, at a hundredth. But who do you consider yourself to be if you are stuck somewhere in the middle? The eternal question: is the glass half full or half empty?
Tuesday morning
Before leaving home
The first true day began with a true showdown with my 19-year-old son, who the day before asked to wake him up at half past seven (“Be sure to wake him up, I have a very important business!”), But I hardly managed to kick him out of bed until a quarter to nine.
The story is typical, we always have. To my again traditional question: “Why not immediately say that you will get up later?” – he shrugged his shoulders: “What, is it difficult for you?” And I answered, for the first time in several years: “I would calmly drink coffee, read a book, and I run to you every ten minutes and perform the part of the talking alarm clock.” The son looked at me in surprise.
Tuesday, midday
At work
The difficulty arose in the middle of the day. I must say that I intensely forced myself to think about my high mission: the truth and only the truth. But I kept forgetting about her. It seems to be easy and even natural not to lie, but problems arise when you do it on purpose. It’s easy to run down the stairs, and if you think, “First the right foot, then the left,” you will definitely start to stumble.
So, in the middle of the day, I – or rather, the press service of the department in which I work – received a call from one very specific journalist. She writes about us, if not nasty things, then nonsense, and at the same time she demands special attention and respect for herself all the time. We try to maintain neutrality, to her unrealistic requests (an urgent interview with our endlessly busy leader) we answer that of course, of course, as soon as he is released …
She called with another complaint: why didn’t we remind her that we would have an interesting event? In general, it is common for her to suspect everyone that she is being maliciously and deliberately ignored.
I honestly answered that the announcement was sent to everyone, and she did not ask us for additional reminders. She falsely stated that she had not received the announcement. I expressed confidence that she was telling a lie, because we send the announcement to three addresses: by the editorial office’s e-mail, the journalist’s personal mail and by fax. She was offended, saying that she always tells only the truth.
An interesting observation: the aggressiveness of the interlocutor greatly increases the level of one’s own truthfulness
Is always! It’s incomprehensible. And why do people make such strange statements? Nobody will believe anyway. “You,” my interlocutor said, “generally treat me badly.” She was probably waiting for objections. Not declarations of love, but at least polite: “Well, what are you …” Without waiting (I was silent in a deafening silence), she assertively asked again: “Isn’t that so?”
An interesting observation: the aggressiveness of the interlocutor greatly increases the level of one’s own truthfulness.
“Excuse me, Alexandra,” I said, “but you, too, feel about us… how can I put it more precisely? With the deepest dislike. Judging by your posts. The journalist was confused. “But… I write what I think!” “Of course. But, you see, it would be illogical and impolite not to reciprocate.
She muttered something and hung up. Bottom line: the journalist was offended. One could say that we have made an enemy, but this is not so. She herself, without any effort on our part, has long enrolled in the camp of our enemies.
Tuesday night
It’s not so scary
Toward the end of the day, a colleague of mine dropped by our press office. To “look” in his understanding is to sit in a chair and talk about your life for a long time. To his misfortune, he asked a rhetorical question: “Will I interfere?” Usually I say that, of course, there is a lot of work, but … He equates this “but” with “Sit back and tell, tell!”. “Honestly, you’re in the way,” I admitted, gathering my courage.
I didn’t doubt for a second that he would be offended. Nothing like this! He was surprised, but no more. And he even came up with a reason: “I understand, urgent work.” Not so devastating, it turns out, the consequences of the truth.
Wednesday noon
Coffee with Consequences
I jumped out for half an hour to drink coffee with a sluggish admirer, who “was just passing by and …”. His courtship is more than five years old, so they can already be called a tribute to tradition. For me – and in the last three years for him too – this is more of a ritual than an advancement towards a conscious goal. However, he demonstrates fidelity to principles and fidelity in general, and I increase self-esteem at his expense.
Somewhere in the middle of the second cup of cappuccino, my husband called. I wonder if I didn’t answer the phone would it be a lie? “Where are you?” he asked. “In a cafe,” I answered honestly. “I have a short meeting.”
It should be noted that my husband is not exactly opposed to contact with fans, but he certainly does not approve of them. He is well aware of this particular one for a long time, at one time they even had difficult men’s conversations with each other. Therefore, I prefer not to talk about our rare meetings.
“Yes? And with whom? for some reason my husband asked. “With Sasha N,” as I confessed in spirit. And then she began to make excuses: “He ended up in our area, and we …” “Understood,” my beloved interrupted me gloomily. “Well, I won’t bother you.”
The consequences of my heroic truth are obvious: the evening will not be the most pleasant conversation. However, as they say in such cases, I did nothing wrong.
Wednesday, evening
Tomorrow I will lie!
Otherwise, the day passed relatively calmly: no one asked me uncomfortable questions, and in the late afternoon I felt relieved: it had passed! It was then that my old friend called and invited me to visit.
I didn’t want to go scared. In a peaceful life, I would come up with some good reason: the evening is busy, I’m sick – so that he gets the impression that I want to come to him with all my heart, but, alas, I can’t.
In my opinion, always telling the truth is a pathology. There are situations where it is inappropriate, cruel and harmful to everyone.
Taking a deep breath and thanking for the invitation, I said, “No.” Just “no” without explanation. “Can not?” For some reason he clarified. “Not in the mood at all,” I replied. “And we’ll pick it up for you,” he assured me. “No, no,” I said again. “Another time, okay?”
He said goodbye to me without the usual warmth. And although the truth-seeker Blanton claims that the bitter truth is the best gift that can be given to a friend, I think he (friend) would have liked the deceitful option with excessive employment.
In the evening my mother called. The traditional question was: “How are you? How is your mood?” This test of veracity proved to be the most difficult. Instead of the usual “Everything is great!” I confessed with a heavy heart that things were not very good and my mood was so-so. To avoid clarifying questions, I promised to tell you more about everything tomorrow. Mom was upset. I, listening to her sad voice, too. Who needs this truth?
I think parents should not be loaded with our troubles. Parents must be protected. And if for this you need to lie a little – lie. There will be no harm, only benefit and care.
***
I think, in order to finally understand the attractiveness or harmfulness of the naked truth, the experiment would be worth continuing. To starve for two days is not a question, everyone can handle it. And a two-day trip to the nearest forest is also not an indicator. But a three-week abstinence from food and a month-long kayak trip will clearly make anyone understand the charm or filth of tourism and cleansing fasting.
But still, the truth “a lie has the right to life” has become a little closer to me. Probably, it is possible to tell the truth more often, and in a number of cases we exaggerate its expected negative consequences. But always telling the truth is, in my opinion, a pathology. There are situations where it is clearly inappropriate, cruel and harmful. And for everyone.
It seems to me that our lies in most cases are just a means of protection. And it works. How can you be happy if you do not feel safe, and even more so if you yourself, with your own hands, with your own words, make yourself vulnerable.