All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Remarque has been made into films since its publication in 1929, one of which I showed every year to my AP US History classes. The German boy, played by Richard Thomas in the version I used, was witness to the slow and excruciatingly painful death of a good friend.
When the boys went off to war, the deceased’s mother had specifically charged the Richard Thomas character to “look after her boy.”
So it was that when he came back on leave, the soldier sought out the mother to grieve with her. For a time, she seemed to blame him for not adequately looking after her son. Then she looks at the young man and asks, “Did he die quickly?”
Several academic studies in recent years have explored the question of whether or not people tell the truth. We might hope that the answer is yes.
If so, we would have cause to worry. There is evidence to suggest that most of us manage to mis-state the truth or outright lie more than any of us think ourselves capable of doing.
I can’t argue the merits of the studies. Instead, I take their point to suggest that we People of a Certain Age, indeed, people of any age, develop tendencies that we might wish we had not.
I wonder how many of us are completely honest all the time about how we feel. Generally, a person who asks “how’re you doing” is not intending to receive a full report on your latest health concern. So, the usual response is “fine,” even when you are not. Is that dishonest?
Have you ever been asked, “How do I look?” by someone whose clothes look ill-matched or whose face looks gray and ghostly? Don’t you usually find something to compliment rather than blurting out your real thoughts?
Hank Ketchum has drawn many Dennis the Menace cartoons in which Dennis repeats something his parents have said about someone to that someone, to the horror of his parents. Real children also have the capacity to share unfiltered comments about what they see or feel.
Growing up seems to be, among other things, a matter of making judgments about what to say when. We all notice adults who, for whatever reasons, say exactly what is on their minds. Their filters are less well developed.
I believe most people, when faced with big issues, tell the truth. Perhaps they received the same advice as I did as a child, to “tell the truth so you don’t have to remember the story you told.” I believe most people, for example, would not lie if the lie would endanger another person.
Some Big Lies are found out, with major consequences. We People of a Certain Age remember Watergate, where the cover-up (read web of lies) cost the President his job. Do you believe, as I do, that this is merely one among too many Big Lies, with President Nixon unlucky that his was found out?
Perhaps editing one’s comments about how another person looks or resisting the urge to explain exactly how you feel when asked don’t even qualify as lies.
So, is the absence of the truth a lie?
We have heard about people telling doctors to reveal the whole truth about one’s condition, holding nothing back, and doctors being ready to do so. We have also heard about families who collaborate with a doctor to shield the ill person from the truth.
Is there such a thing as a compassionate lie that passes muster as the right thing to do?
Once as a school head, I put a value on telling the truth in a tangible way. Three boys were caught drunk on campus. The penalty was expulsion. Two lied, claiming they had not been drinking. One told the truth, admitting that all three had done so. I made all three get counseling about alcohol and did not dismiss any of the three. I was criticized by hard-liners about alcohol on campus. They would have had me expel the one who told the truth and let the liars stay? Really?
My scholarly sister has noted the book, Lie to Me, by Paul Ekman in which the author asserts that, in specific ways, one’s body reveals when one is lying. Knowing these ways helps crime investigators and job interviewers. Chances are, unfortunately, that these ways are less obvious than Pinocchio’s nose.
Do I need to become savvy as well to maximize my ability to tell when I am being told a “little white lie?” (This is a term I have not liked for obvious reasons!)
No doubt, you and I think ourselves to be honest people. When it comes to big issues, my conscience is clear. Maybe I have uttered a few untruths here and there along the way. Does that make me a dishonest person?
Does an honest person lie, ever?
If you had been the German soldier, how would you have answered the grieving mother?
In the movie, the solider says, “He died quickly.”
Not once in all the times I watched the film was I ever convinced that she believed him.
Daniel E. White
March 7, 2016