THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH A WHITE LIE, RIGHT? RIGHT?!?
Not so long ago, I received a message from a girlfriend that almost made me spit out my tea: "I hope you donât mind, but I told John* Iâve been with you when Iâve been over at Benâs*." John being her soon-to-be-ex; Ben being her lover. I was a little bit appalled â not so much because she was lying to her partner, but because she assumed I would too.
Sure, I lie to my husband all the time â but theyâre just white lies. And thatâs a completely different category of lying, right?
Take this typical exchange: âI havenât seen that bag/top/bit of vintage kitchenalia beforeâŚâ And my standard retort (sounding offended): âWhat? Iâve had this for ages!â The truth is, of course, that it is another new bag, or top, or vintage silver serving spoon... but if itâs been stashed away for months then technically I have had it for agesâŚ
My little fibs trip off the tongue; theyâre harmless. A victimless non-crime. And we all do it. To our boss: "Itâs almost ready." (Err, I havenât started.) To our mother-in-law: "Itâs delicious." (Pass the salt!) To our friends: "Iâve double-booked." (Got a date with a Game of Thrones.) You canât please everybody â including yourself â without occasionally bending the truth.
And because I want to justify my dossier of deceits, I asked some experts to weigh in on the matter. Ian Leslie, author of Born Liars, offered some comfort: âAny lie I tell I can pretty much justify as being okay,â he tells me. âMaybe I think I'm saving someone from being upset, or making a story more interesting. My definition of a white lie is the same as everyone else's: âI tell white lies; he is a liarâ.â
Besides, anyone who claims they never lie is lying. Back in 2002, American psychologist Robert Feldman filmed students meeting people for the first time and caught his subjects telling an average of three lies every 10 minutes â if itâs typical to lie that much to a stranger, I shudder to think how much I do it to people Iâm close to.
Feldman also found that women are more likely to lie to make others feel better. So does this make us the mistresses of the white lie? I asked my friends for some of their go-to fibs. Sound familiar?
âWho doesnât pretend theyâre sick to get a break from work?â
ââMy phone was on silentâ is a favourite.â
âMy weight and the number of men Iâve slept with are often underestimated.â
Weâre all taught that honesty is the best policy, but it seems weâre opting for white lies to help navigate moral grey areas. So where do we draw the line?
âThere might not be a logical answer to the question of what is a âwhiteâ lie versus a âblackâ lie,â says Leslie. âBut maybe there is an emotional one for most of us. When you're telling a lie and you get that sick feeling in your stomach... you know it's wrong.â
Clinical psychologist Dorothy Rowe, author of Why We Lie, offers some hard truths on the matter: the garden-variety white lie is the easiest lie to tell, she says, but there are consequences. âFirstly, youâll get caught,â she tells me. The deeper issue, however, is not that weâll spiral into greater deceptions in our relationships, but that weâre deceiving ourselves.
âThe reason we lie is to protect ourselves,â she explains. âWeâre kidding ourselves that weâre being nice and kind and thoughtful â whatâs really behind it is that we donât want the person weâre lying to to stop liking us.â
But what about my harmless, if habitual, shopping lies?
âIt becomes one thing after another. When you say something like, âI got these Jimmy Choos from a friend who bought them, but they were too small,â you then need to remember the story of where you got those shoes. Theyâre complicated lies to remember,â Rowe warns. âSensible people lie as infrequently as possible â they have more control over the events in their life; theyâre less likely to be called into account.â
I want to be one of these sensible, in-control people. So I decide to go fib-free â it should be easy, no?
First up, a friend I just saw asks if I want to meet up for lunch, and even though Iâm kinda talked out, I canât say âno, Iâm busyâ, can I? I also decide itâs high time to come out of the closet about just how much stuff is in it. I fess up to my husband about my tendency to price-down, backdate or, okay, conceal purchases. Heâs less than impressed, to say the least, and I wonder if I was better off telling fibs.
At this, Dorothy admits: âI donât think itâs possible to live in society without occasionally telling a lie â but we need to be very clear in our own mind why weâre telling it.â
I also wonder whether my friend realised the position sheâd put me in with her message â or whether its gravity was lost because all she had to do was hit âsendâ. âEmails remove us from the scene of the crime, as it were,â says Leslie. âThere are fewer âtellsâ to give us away, and we're less likely to get that sick feeling when we can't see the person to whom we're lying. On the other hand, it makes it more difficult because digital messages never disappear. The truth is always out there, somewhere.â
What have I learned? Lie if you must â but make sure youâre a good liar. Be mindful of why youâre doing it; consider whether the truth is a better alternative; and if it isnât, at least lie to somebodyâs face.
*All names mentioned are lies.