“Deceit hurts not when it is committed, but when it is revealed,” says a popular computer game. I wonder why it is still so difficult for us to forgive a lie?
“Deceit hurts not when it is committed, but when it is revealed,” the son shared a quote from a computer game. In what unexpected places wisdom is sometimes found! But if in essence — where does the pain come from?
It seems to me that deception is a secret violation of our free will, an attempt (and often successful) to force us to do something that we would not do of our own free will if we had the knowledge that our interlocutor has. «Do» refers to feelings as well. Anyone who talks about his unreal exploits or suffering provokes in us admiration or sympathy, which he does not really deserve. Or we build an expectation in accordance with the promise we received. We suffer because our expectation is violated. But more than that, we experience deception as a humiliation, as a denial of our right to know the truth.
The truth is a divided reality: you tell me what you saw, understood, experienced yourself. Lies — you tell me something else, not what you saw, understood, experienced. And I’m left alone with my reality. You don’t share your reality with me. And I feel my inability to share mine in return. We find ourselves in different worlds. This is how a lie confronts us — against our will — with our loneliness.
Like what’s the difference? Can’t I, by my own decision, remain truthful, whether or not the other person possesses this quality? Can’t I say whatever I want to say about myself? Theoretically, this is so, but, alas, experience contradicts this. If someone lies to us, it is as if he closes some doors in front of us: we can still enter them, but we will have to make an effort to open them.
This disconnection is a sign of distrust: the person is telling us that he does not believe that we can accept his story properly. Perhaps he is right in his guess. But distrust offends.
When the doctor does not tell us about our fatal diagnosis, he is probably right in assuming that hearing this will make us upset, maybe faint, or kick and scream. And he protects himself from our alleged unworthy, inappropriate and other «un-» behavior.
But by doing so, he deliberately robs us of the opportunity to at least try to behave differently. A lie is a sentence pronounced even before the crime: we are recognized as incapable … At the same time, it looks like a self-fulfilling prophecy: when we get to the bottom of the truth for a long time, then in this search we lose spiritual strength that could be useful to us in order to accept the news that from we are being hidden.
Those who say that we ourselves by our behavior provoke others to lie are right. Classic picture: a man spent the evening with friends, his girlfriend is upset: “Friends are more important than me ?!” And the case is ready: next time he will say that he was at an important meeting. So the student, asking for time off from lessons, would rather refer to a headache than to boredom. Behind lies is fear. Is it always? In any case, most of the time. Perhaps not strong: after all, the fear of upsetting someone and then being a witness to the experiences caused is also a fear, although in a homeopathic dilution. And it is unpleasant for us, seemingly protected, to realize that we are becoming a source of fear for someone.
- 48 hours without lies
Well, what to do? There are tips for the future on how to avoid similar situations in the future. As a rule, they offer to distinguish between signs of a lie. Probably, having solved the deception at the same second, we will get more freedom of choice — what to do. To grin skeptically in response to the story of unprecedented miracles: “Something is hard to believe that Brad Pitt asked you for an autograph.” Or, on the contrary, to support with enthusiasm, silently knowing that they failed to deceive us? Smart books teach wives how not to yell at their husbands so they don’t have to resort to lies.
For some reason, these answers do not quite satisfy me. Although I can’t offer anything better. However, I remember one old dialogue that happened a good 20 years ago. We are talking about those who are sick.
“We must bring them flowers and oranges,” said my friend.
“What if they’re lying and only pretending to be sick?” I asked with the vehemence of an avid debater.
My friend thought for a second.
– All the more need to bring them flowers and oranges! he passed the verdict.
…However, it will be necessary to ask the son what the wise computer game says.