Should we always tell the truth, escaping the tyranny of ironing and one of the less delightful habits of our four-legged friends
THOMAS BLAIKIE
Q Dear Thomas, you hear people accusing each other of lying all the time now. It’s not just politicians. Quite often it’s not really lying anyway, more misdirection or prevarication. However, I do wonder what would happen if everybody stopped lying and told the truth all the time instead?
Tricia Warlock, Sunbury-on-Thames, Surrey
A Dear Tricia, I think you’re right. The term is overused in our black-and-white polarised society. So instead of saying that a particular interpretation of raw information is far-fetched or unlikely, we describe it as ‘lying’.
Lying is bad, of course. The badness of lying was the foundation of our moral education in childhood. Lying is never justified.
But it’s not true. I think it was Iris Murdoch who said that if we all went around openly expressing our true thoughts, often violent even murderous, the consequences would be unthinkable.
The wheels of social life are oiled by lies. ‘This haddock is disgusting’; ‘You look awful in orange’; ‘Your pastry is a disaster’. Just imagine if we always told the truth at the dinner table. It would be rude. We wouldn’t be asked again.
But these are trivial instances, you might say. In relationships, in important things, you must tell the truth. Really? I challenge you to measure honestly how much you leave unsaid or phrase in a certain way to avoid offence.
What is diplomacy, after all, but a kind of lying. ‘You’ve got a healthy appetite’ (you’re greedy); ‘Your garden is very colourful’ (garish, and you don’t like it). How often do we judge it best to go along with someone’s overwrought idea of a situation than say what we really think? – ‘Yes, your brother really is scheming to get your mother to change her will.’
What is ‘truth’ anyway? You don’t have to be a full-on relativist to see that it slides about rather. Under pressure, we might tell someone what we think they deserve to hear. But later on it turns out we had just lost our temper. We wish we hadn’t said all those things.
Q Dear Thomas, I don’t agree with your comments about Nigella Lawson’s no-ironing regime (February issue).
I love winter for the fact that it means I have no ironing, with maybe the exception of an occasional blouse. I tumble-dry my jeans so they come out soft and only need a bit of flattening o
