The Ethicist

February 4, 2007

Q: Should you lie to save people’s feelings?

HERE is a timeless scene played out in countless homes around the land. Someone’s beloved (let’s call her Mum) returns home after a day at the shops. She has treated herself to the latest haute couture. Face radiant with expectation, Mum parades her new, fashionable self before her family.

Then she asks the fateful question, “How do I look?” followed by a further, dreaded exhortation: “Tell me what you really think.”

A simple enough request – except Mum doesn’t look too flash. Indeed, there’s a real risk that she would embarrass herself (not to mention the family) if she ever stepped out in THAT sequinned pant suit. But Mum looks so happy as she twirls in her spangles. Any note of criticism will be devastating. So what to do? Wouldn’t it be OK to lie, for her sake?

The decision about whether or not to tell the truth is not a simple matter of judging between good and bad, right or wrong. As with every ethical dilemma, the choice is between competing values and principles of equal weight.

In this case, the choice is between love and compassion for Mum and the prima facie duty to tell the truth.

Three approaches dominate thinking about the conditions under which lying might be permissible.

The first option is to evaluate the consequences of lying. If a good enough result can be achieved, then this is said, by supporters of this approach, to make right a decision to lie.

A second approach rejects any consideration of consequences and instead assesses whether or not lying could be permitted as a universal law. Proponents of this view (of whom Kant is the most renowned) conclude that lying is wrong under any circumstances, for to permit lying is deemed to be contrary to reason.

A third approach is to consider the question of lying in terms of its impact on the character of those who lie.

This approach, derived from Aristotle, rejects lying on the ground that it warps character over time (even if done for good reasons) and thus distorts one’s capacity to exercise practical wisdom.

Even those who might allow lying in some circumstances start with a presumption that telling the truth is preferable. Lying is not something to be done lightly. So, people who lie to serve their own shallow interests – to secure personal power or profit – are unlikely to meet even the most liberal test of justification. That might seem fairly obvious, but it’s a point worth making because of the ease with which we tend to confect a rationalisation for selfish behaviour. Examples of this include: “It’s my duty,” “I’m doing it for the good of the company”, “I’m doing it for the good of the country,” and so on.

Sometimes these claims may be true; too often they are empty boasts. In such cases, the dishonesty extends to lying to oneself, as well as to others.

But what of Mum and her new clothes?

There may be an element of self-interest in wanting to avoid the discomfort of telling an unwelcome truth.

However, the desire to avoid causing harm to a loved one is no less real for this. What Mum wants is to be complimented and to have her choices affirmed. Yet, the relationship of respect owed to another requires clear discernment between a person’s wants and their interests. For example, an alcoholic may want a beer but it is almost certainly not in their interests to be given one.

In this case, Mum may want to be complimented, but it is almost certainly not in her interests to be misled (either by act or omission). A false compliment may expose her to ridicule by a more critical world.

Beyond that, the maintenance of good relationships is based on trust, which is quickly undermined by even well-intentioned acts of dishonesty.

We are often afraid of the truth – both of hearing it and telling it. Truth-telling often requires a certain amount of moral courage.

Yet a respect for the truth does not require that we be brutally honest. Rather, we should focus on developing skilful means of speaking truth – to the vulnerable, to the powerful, to our beloved, to all. Mothers (and others) deserve more than either truth or compassion. They deserve both.

Dr Simon Longstaff is executive director of St James Ethics Centre, ethics.org.au.

http://www.theage.com.au/news/opinion/the-ethicist/2007/02/03/1169919575013.html?page=2