Can You Handle the Truth?

Lies, the ultimate truth, and everything in between.

Hi Zan, Hi Pa

Volume #34

February 10th, 2025

HI, ZAN: For some reason—who knows why these things pop into our heads?!—I’ve been thinking a lot about lying. Lies and Liars. Any thoughts?

HI, PA: This is a great subject, as I’m sure we’ve all felt the sting of being lied to at some point in our lives. And maybe even told a lie or two ourselves… Can you remember a lie you told at some point in life and how it impacted you?

PA: I once told my father I was going to a Stephen Stills concert at Boston Garden with a friend of mine who lived up the street. I didn’t tell him that my friend and his girlfriend had fixed me up with a date. I was very shy and embarrassed and had had very little dating experience. It might have been the worst night of my life, certainly the worst date. The girl started out—within seconds of meeting me—by telling me what drugs she’d taken to prepare for the concert, and asking if I’d taken anything. I hadn’t. That seemed to disappoint her. A bad start. Stills was awful. Afterwards, she hurried away and I took the late subway home with my friend and his girlfriend. That afternoon, my father had been outside washing the car, and somebody had walked past and said, “I just saw Rolly. Does he have a girlfriend now?” The next day when he drove me to the train station, my father was furious. Not about the date, about the lie.

I used to confess lies and even fibs to the priest in the confessional. Kept track of them, too, very carefully, good Catholic boy that I was.

We don’t have to get too personal, but can you remember ever being hurt by being lied to?

ZAN: Well there was that time my parents promised my sister and me a dog for Christmas and then we never got one, so that was a pretty hurtful lie…

Just teasing. Honestly, I can’t remember a time when I was hurt by a lie, though I’m sure I’ve been lied to many times in my life. To me, there are definitely different levels of lies—a friend saying they’d love to hang out and then not following through is different from a car salesman not disclosing a major issue with a vehicle, for example. You could even think of parents telling their children there’s a Santa Claus as a lie… So does that mean lies aren’t always wrong?

PA: I’m gonna get you a dog for next Christmas and you’ll be sorry. Travel writers don’t have dogs.

ZAN: It’s too late, the time has passed!

PA: I’ll make up for it somehow. I’ll mind your dog when you have kids and want to take them to Italy.

Lies and fibs, I guess, is the distinction we should make. A lie would be, “No, I did not steal that moka coffee maker from your house when we stayed over last week!” A fib would be, “What a delicious dinner this is!” when it wasn’t.

I think we can set aside fibs like that, tiny lies told so as to make someone feel good (“You look great today!”) or not to hurt someone’s feelings. And I think honesty can obviously be carried too far. You don’t walk up to someone and say, “I know you think that expensive haircut looks good on you, but it’s deeply ugly.”

ZAN: Do you consider a fib and a ‘white lie’ the same thing?

PA: That was the term we used to use, yes.

But, with those exceptions, I feel like lies and even fibs reflect an inability to deal with, well, the truth. “Yes, I took the moka. I’m so sorry. I’ve bought you a new one and a set of nice coffee cups, too. I hope you can forgive me. I have a problem. I’m getting help for it.” Very hard to be honest sometimes. Even when you have to say something true to a friend or lover—”It drives me crazy when you yell at the computer!” Hard but liberating, and better for both people in the end.

What about lying to yourself? What’s the price for that?

ZAN: I’m a firm believer that “the truth will out,” as they say. So in lying to yourself, you’re only prolonging facing the truth.

Lying to yourself is a natural instinct in some ways—a way to trick the mind to get through tough situations—but doesn’t address the underlying issue. If anything, it makes it fester.

As an example, if the truth is that you’re not in the right job and would be happier doing something else, you might lie to yourself and tell yourself it’s the right position for you, or you need to stay in the job for whatever reason, or you’ll quit once you’ve met a certain goal, etc. Telling yourself that you’ll be happy with this job may feel alright at first, but soon you’ll start sleeping poorly because of the stress, or your misery will continue to creep up on you until you just can’t ignore it anymore. Eventually, that lie may manifest in your body as a chronic health or mental health issue that compels you to face reality.

I guess what I’m saying is that I believe the body (and perhaps the intuition) usually knows the truth. And the mind eventually catches up.

Would you agree?

PA: I do agree, but what if you’re lying to yourself subconsciously? You’re not in the right job but you actually think you’re in the right job, and tell yourself you are, over and over. And then eventually—maybe because you develop a physical illness, as you suggest—you see the truth. What role does awareness play in being truthful, to yourself and others? What is a lie, and what is a lack of awareness?