Lies and consequences

"Man will occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of the time he will pick himself up and continue on." --Winston Churchill

Let’s get right to the point: the old cynic was right, people lie.

I witnessed a great instance of this as a research neophyte on a project involving credit card use. Our group of heavy credit users (those who consistently owe close to the maximum amount available on their credit line) went around the room cheerfully estimating the number of credit cards they owned at “two or three”. These men and women appeared to be very proper people of the type who brush their teeth regularly and teach their children to be good honest citizens. They all sternly claimed to dislike credit cards, use them only when strictly necessary, and pay their bills as promptly as possible.

Then the moderator tripped them up: she asked them to pull out their wallets and count the actual number of credit cards they found there. They all had at least seven (this was the eighties, by the way). Self-righteousness gave way to red-faced laughter. They turned it into a joke, competing to see who had told the biggest lie: one particularly elegant woman who counted twenty-some separate cards was proclaimed the winner.

So why do people lie in research studies? What’s in it for them?

It’s obvious from their embarrassed laughter that my credit-line maxers lied mainly to avoid embarrassment. Although the focus group I describe was completely confidential, although the others in the room were strangers there was no obvious reward for impressing, the participants lied to preserve an appearance of responsible frugality befitting their clean clothes. That appearance clearly mattered deeply to these people.

This kind of ''irrational" lying is a common problem for more than just researchers. A study of Mexicans applying for state assistance found that though applicants under-reported their ownership of cars and other items they feared would disqualify them, an act of rational self-interest, they also over-reported having items like toilets and concrete vs. dirt floors in their homes—to avoid embarrassment about their abject living conditions. In this case, their embarrassment could potentially cost them dearly. (1)

What does it all mean? In keeping with my project in this blog, the fact that other people lie isn’t where this is going. In order to learn from this, I need to turn the two-way mirror on myself.

Urk. Um. Shouldn’t I be doing something important, like flossing, which I do after every meal? Or practicing my flute (I do that every day, religiously).

To make this a little easier, I am going to employ the pronoun “we” here forth.

As social animals, we need to trust each other, which you might think would lead us to be honest. But we also need to look acceptable to each other, and one of the main reasons for that is also our need to trust. Disapproval threatens social bonds—you can’t really trust someone who disapproves of you to be kind or helpful to you. Honesty is the ironic casualty of this need for trust.

(I’m not speaking about intimate relationships here—family, friends. The need for intimacy is in part the need to be loved as we are, and that will generally lead us to be more truthful about ourselves to our intimates. It’s imperfect, of course, but it’s generally true, which is why researchers often get more truthful results if they interview people in the company of friends or family.)

When it comes to honesty, we need to search our own souls and be as empathic as possible with other people. If you were put on the spot, would you reveal behavior that is generally unacceptable? While I like to believe that in that situation I would simply refuse to answer a question, I doubt that I am being honest with myself. I’m one of those unfortunates who turn red and choke up when I say something that I know is untrue, but I compensate for this social deficit with some pretty nimble rationalization and self-censorship.

Truth be told, the social interactions we have are not based on honesty, but on trust. Can I believe strangers or acquaintances when they tell me I'm looking great, or that they enjoyed my presentation? Not really. If I want honesty, I'm going to have to turn to those who trust me enough to give me honest feedback. But I can enjoy the sensation of belonging and safety I experience because they felt a desire to put me at ease.

All this dishonesty isn't such a terrible problem. You just have to face it honestly.

(1) César Martinelli and Susan W. Parker; Deception and Misreporting in a Social Program; http://ideas.repec.org/p/cla/levrem/321307000000000120.html; First Version: June 2006; This Version: May 2007