January 12, 2009
Lying Around -- Part I
by Gerald Dworkin
I have been thinking recently about lying. I don't mean I have been thinking of telling a lie. Many of the lies I tell do not need to be thought about very much. "I am fine." "Not at all. I think that color is quite flattering." "Let me pay. My university will reimburse me." "Yes, Dr. Phillips, I floss every day." I mean I have been thinking about what is a lie and is it ever okay to tell one and why, if we think lying is wrong, so many of us are liars.
This thinking is not occasioned by some personal crisis of character, or being faced with a difficult decision to tell the truth. I am a philosopher and have just finished teaching a graduate seminar called "The Truth about Lying." That seemed a cool title last year when I had to propose one for the catalog. It seems to me now, well not quite a lie, but more like false advertising. If I really knew the truth about this difficult subject I would, as they say, be rich.
I wanted to think about this topic because it seemed to me to have a number of features not shared by other moral concepts-- such as murder, cruelty, theft, or promise-breaking. First,while almost all of us would refrain from these acts, most of us lie on a daily basis. (As do doctors-- at least if you think prescribing placebos is lying. In a recent survey 45-58% , depending on how the question was phrased, prescribe them on a regular basis. If it's any consolation, the sugar pill seems to have been replaced by vitamins.) Second, if any of us were to act cruelly when this was pointed out to us we would either deny that was an appropriate description of our action or admit we were cruel and, at least, feel guilt or remorse. Whereas many of us are prepared to defend our lies--indeed, to glory in them sometimes ("Boy, did I have you going! Gotcha.") Third, there seem to be contexts in which not only does the fact that something is a lie not count in any way against what we are doing, but seems to count in favor--poker, spying, lying contests, getting someone to a surprise party, lying to the murderer at the door about where his victim is hiding.
There seem to be very large differences between people as to what they regard as a lie. A , who makes a mistake about the day of the week, says, " Damn. I lied. It's Tuesday not Wednesday." But many people distinguish between being wrong and lying. B, who believes that today is Tuesday ( it is actually Wednesday) says to C, "Today is Wednesday". Some people think that B lied; others that he tried to lie but failed. Some people think that gross exaggeration-- "I haven't eaten for over a year"-- is a lie; others do not. Now most ethical concepts have borderline cases-- is not returning the lost wallet theft? is failing to rescue the drowning child murder?-- but with lying it sometimes seems that the borderline is the whole territory.
Another interesting feature is that some people make a sharp moral distinction between lying and other ways of misleading by what one says. If you ask me what happened to your mail, and I say "Someone stole it from your box"without mentioning that the someone was me, some people will say "Well, at least you didn't lie" as if that somehow makes what I did less serious. The medieval Catholic Church elevated the idea of equivocation-- saying something true but meaning it one way rather than another, as in the Saint found who reported to would-be persecutors "That Saint is not far from here,"-- to Clintonian heights. Many people—myself included—see a difference between lying to someone and failing to tell them something that they have an interest in being told.
Finally, I find striking the variety of views as to what makes lying wrong when it is wrong. Here are some of them.
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Because it is intrinsically wrong. This is philosophyspeak for “it’s just wrong, wrong because of what it is, wrong by its very nature.”
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Because it produces bad effects, i.e. harms social trust, damages various kinds of relationships—personal, professional, political--- leads people to harm based on false information, etc.
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Because lying cannot be something that we all do. If we all did it, nobody would believe me when I lie and so it would be pointless to lie. But if we all cannot do it, why am I allowed to do it and not you and you and you… But then we are all doing it.
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Because it is an assertion of what you believe to be false and this violates a convention of language.
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Because of the intention behind the lie, i.e. to deceive another person.
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Because telling a lie is a violation of the autonomy of the hearer. It is an exercise of power over another rational individual—all the more insidious because it sometimes is undetected.
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Because telling a lie treats another person as a means to some end. This is true even of lies told to benefit the hearer. In such case he is treated as a means to his own good.
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Because telling lie is a violation of a duty to yourself to be truthful.
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Because a principle forbidding lying would be agreed to by all of us if we were trying to find a principle to regulate our common behavior that we could all agree to.
Now some of these differences simply reflect the variety of moral theories that philosophers have come up with over the years. (Product differentiation is a feature of the academy.) But the issue of lying seems to have what economists call a “multiplier effect.” A unit of thought produces more than an additional unit of explanations of what is wrong with lying.
Let me conclude today by inviting you to accept an assignment. Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to define what it is to tell a lie. Here are some questions to start you off. I just heard on the radio someone listing the virtues of a friend claim that she never lied on purpose. Is it possible that she has lied unintentionally? Can one lie by not saying anything? By saying something true which is misleading? (Does the doctor who hands you a placebo and says, ”Try this. It has been found to be effective by many patients.” lie?) If one says something one believes to be false, but it turns out to be true, has one lied? Does lying involve an intention to deceive the hearer? What about bald-faced lies? (Think of the Monty Python Parrot sketch when John Cleese continues to profess that the dead parrot was “just resting.) Can one lie to oneself? Is there a difference between saying something, and meaning to be believed? (Is the actor on stage asserting to the audience that he has a terrible headache?) Is saying something ironically lying? (“Great dive” said to the person who just belly-whopped into the pool.) Suppose you say something that you do not believe false nor do you believe it to be true. You have no opinion as to its truth. It turns out to be false. Did you lie? Does your definition say anything about the rightness or wrongness of telling a lie? Should it?
Part II of this article can be found here.
Posted by Gerald Dworkin at 01:10 AM | Permalink






















Comments
And how do you wish to handle this type of “lying”?
Pseudologia fantastica, or pathological lying, which is one of several terms applied to the behavior of habitual or compulsive lying.
It was first described in the psychiatric literature in 1891.
One definition of pathological lying is the following:
Pathological lying is a falsification entirely disproportionate to any perceptible end in view, may be extensive and very complicated, and may be manifest over a period of years or even a lifetime.
Posted by: Felix E F Larocca MD | Jan 12, 2009 8:36:30 AM
Welcome, Gerald! Thanks for this.
Many years ago when I lived in Italy, an Italian associate seemed to find me more amusing than could possibly be warranted by the wit, or humor, of what I said. Finally I asked him to let me in on the joke. "You Americans," he replied. "You always say what you mean." To many Italians, almost nothing could have been funnier than that. Language was like dress -- the observation of certain conventions for an effect that was customary, pleasing and appropriate. Language suited to the purpose of saying what you meant was an altogether other thing. Your essay takes me back to those baffling revelations.
Posted by: Elatia Harris | Jan 12, 2009 9:52:12 AM
Okay, Jerry, I'll bite:
In my casual opinion, a definition closest to what might capture our commonsense instincts about what is and isn't a lie might be something that satisfies these three conditions:
1) A lie is always a speech act, or at least an act where the world is somehow represented as being some way. (So a treasure map I draw for you with the X marked in the wrong spot is also possibly a lie.)
2) There must be an intention to deceive the listener, on the part of the teller, behind the lie.
3) The teller must NOT believe what she is asserting to be true. This doesn't mean she necessarily believes it to be false. She may have no opinion as to the truth of what she is saying.
So now to answer your questions:
Is it possible that she has lied unintentionally?
By my definition, no. Otherwise, this would make, for example, Newton a liar about the nature of spacetime. These are mistakes, not lies.
Can one lie by not saying anything?
Again, no. One can deceive or mislead, but one has not lied. But I am considering things like pointing deliberately to the wrong door when asked, "Which is the way out?" to be "saying something."
By saying something true which is misleading? (Does the doctor who hands you a placebo and says, ”Try this. It has been found to be effective by many patients.” lie?)
It is not a lie.
If one says something one believes to be false, but it turns out to be true, has one lied?
Yes.
Does lying involve an intention to deceive the hearer?
Yes.
What about bald-faced lies? (Think of the Monty Python Parrot sketch when John Cleese continues to profess that the dead parrot was “just resting.)
If it is obvious that the statement is not true, then there can be no real intention to deceive. The intention is something else, so not a lie.
Can one lie to oneself?
No.
Is there a difference between saying something, and meaning to be believed?
Yes.
(Is the actor on stage asserting to the audience that he has a terrible headache?)
No.
Is saying something ironically lying? (“Great dive” said to the person who just belly-whopped into the pool.)
No. There's no intention to deceive.
Suppose you say something that you do not believe false nor do you believe it to be true. You have no opinion as to its truth. It turns out to be false. Did you lie?
Yes. Fails condition 3.
Does your definition say anything about the rightness or wrongness of telling a lie?
Absolutely not.
Should it?
I don't see why it should. Lying is sometimes bad and sometimes good.
To finish with the bait metaphor with which I started this comment: I am wondering whether something like a fish which has a worm-like protuberance on its tongue to trick other fish into coming near its mouth so it can swallow them is lying. Though not perhaps "consciously" intentional, I think I would be willing to stretch my notion of intentionality to allow this to be a lie. It certainly is representing a state of the world which is false.
I await obvious counterexamples which I am sure I must have missed!
Posted by: S. Abbas Raza | Jan 12, 2009 11:05:49 AM
Here's an initial stab at doing Jerry's assignment:
It seems that what counts as lying can be construed so narrowly as to make the claim that lying is wrong or damaging or harmful true by tautology (i.e., lying just is the wrong or damaging or harmful utterance of a false proposition). But it can also be construed so broadly as to make the imperative that we not lie virtually equivalent to the requirement that we be nothing more than true-proposition-emitting machines, rejecting all or nearly all of the pragmatic elements of communication. An example: imagine a mother who is proud of her child for eating his vegetables, and who exclaims: "Who's my little bunny? You are! Yes you are!" If the child replies, "No I'm not," he's either a future philosopher, or, much more likely, he's saying not that he is not a member of the family Leporidae, but that he wishes his mother would stop treating him that way. In any case it would take an analyst fairly unappreciative of communicative nuance to assess either proposition in terms of its truth value. Surely, then, we don't want a conception of lying that would label as lies irony, metaphor, or anything else that's not literally true.
As for (4) above, then, it couldn't be the case that emitting false propositions is wrong to the extent that it violates a convention of language, since there are many conventions of language that require us to make, and to respond positively to, claims that are not literally true.
One case of willful misrepresentation of the truth that was not addressed explicitly in the essay would be all those instances where you lie because it's none of the other's damn business what truths you happen to harbor (e.g., when being interrogated by an unjust regime). Here I think it may be quite laudable to utter false propositions, and here again for reasons having to do with the pragmatics of the situation.
I don't imagine any philosophers or non-philosophers today really believe that lying is always wrong, and I think this is because we, unlike Kant, are interested in the sociolinguistic aspects of concrete instances of false utterance, rather than just in the relation of claims we make to the Truth. I don't know why Kant continues to carry such weight in philosophical discussions of lying (he's no longer invoked in discussion of, e.g., marriage). "Lying is always wrong" might be a good hypothesis to start out with in a philosophical investigation of the topic, but only so as to quickly knock it down with rich real-life examples.
Posted by: Justin E. H. Smith | Jan 12, 2009 12:15:12 PM
I arrived at the hospital in Karachi at my cousin's bedside to make sure that I would help make it clear to her that she was dying. Her condition was very serious by this time and it appeared that she wouldn't make it through the month not even to the end of July. Her cancer had metastasized and it seemed that the Doctors in Pakistan kept telling her to keep her faith even in this condition and with all the complications that she had developed. They kept and keep telling her that God knew best. Not one Doctor there, tells her she is dying. Doctors in the US including those who are relatives and friends insisted that the best way forward was to tell her the truth and lay ou the facts about her condition. This was done for her by a visiting cousin, a doctor from the US. The result was denial and emotional distress for her. I arrived and piled on the distress in the first few days by restating the roadmap for her. It was important not to lie to her. Lay out the facts. Then as time went on and my time with her at her bedside increased and she turned to me and asked me "I will be okay? I will get better? God will take care of me? God will make me okay?" I replied: "Keep fighting this damn thing--you will be okay--yes, you will be okay--have faith in God--this medicine, the doctors, keep your faith--don't lose hope--keep fighting this, keep fighting, you will be okay.
A lie.
But she's made it through July. And I'm still lying to her.
Posted by: maniza | Jan 12, 2009 12:32:11 PM
Here's a laugh--I just phoned UC Davis to verify that Gerald Dworkin actually exists. By which I mean that he is a man, indeed a professor of philosophy, and not a fictional identity jimmied up with all the usual components of a web identity to argue philosophy on the internet. It's so hard to tell these days.
Posted by: Frances Madeson | Jan 12, 2009 12:51:29 PM
I found this piece both amusing and singularly wrong-headed. I have long held the opinion that the true evolutionary value of language is the ability to deceive other members of our social group and thus that not only is lying fundamental to language it is its true human purpose. To believe that language is a means of communication rather than a means of mis-communication is the flaw that dooms all current language study to failure.
It flows from this that a language based examination of lying is pivotally self-defeating - a mechanism built and exploited for lying cannot do anything exclusively truthful - and certainly not explain itself.
Posted by: Papalaz | Jan 12, 2009 12:53:38 PM
I agree with Abbas Raza's account of lying, so I'm not going to complete the assignment. I do, however, have an important correction to make to Jerry's post. In the dead parrot sketch, it's Michael Palin who insists that the parrot is "just resting". John Cleese is the customer returning the parrot, who informs Michael Palin that the parrot is an "ex-parrot, bereft of life, he rests in peace, he's run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible, he's bleedin' snuffed it" etc.
Posted by: Alastair Norcross | Jan 12, 2009 2:01:30 PM
I would disagree that language's evolutionary purpose is to dissimulate. To be sure, I can imagine scenarios where lying would be beneficial to the individual (or the collection of genes associated with the individual). I suspect, however, that originally humans communicated for the same reasons that bees do, namely group preservation. Individuals who lie would need to be punished to preserve the truth-telling instinct. This might explain why Kant remains a favorite in discussions of lying—and perhaps why no one can justify our continuing to include his position.
While I understand Justin's point about an overly restrictive definition of lying, his specific leporine example seems open to the following restatement. Given the mother's metalinguistic cues, what she means in this context by “bunny” is 'small, cute, vegetable eating animal,' which describes her son, if only to her. Perhaps all metaphors can be re-articulated similarly. The ones I can think of immediately all seem amenable (and emendable) in this fashion if we understand the 'to be' to mean 'resembles in a limited way.' That would ruin literature, to be sure.
Justin's other example of interrogation could be answered, albeit flat-footedly, in the standard Kantian way: one need simply be clever enough with language to not reveal one's truths while not lying. More interesting is the question whether we think of lying for the sake of a higher truth not to be lying. I don't think that we would call war heroes who mislead the enemy to be liars. Is lying then all (or mostly) in the intent?
Posted by: Brian Domino | Jan 12, 2009 2:54:25 PM
Brian - you mis-represent me - and evolution - evolution does not have a purpose in mind. And then you conflate communication and language (thus reinforcing my original point) in a single sentence and without turning a hair. I agree we developed communication just as bees did - I would suggest however that language serves a higher function and that language - the ability to dissemble - mark us as a species (and mark us as the dominant species).
We lie therefore we win
Posted by: Papalaz | Jan 12, 2009 3:12:41 PM
Abbas,
The Stuart Smalley defense. You say that you cannot lie to yourself, but, by the conditions you state, isn't that exactly what is advocated by certain strands of modern psychological therapy (CBT, neurolinguistic programming) or just plain old cheapie self-help books?
In other words:
I believe myself to be a mopey loser. I am certain that I am a mopey loser.
Therapist says: you're not a mopey loser, you just act like one because that's what you believe yourself to be.
I, mopey loser, begin to spend my days pep-talking myself into being a Not-mopey-loser. So I say:
I am a good man, a courageous man. Today is a good day.
The fact is, I still believe myself to be a mopey loser, but am trying to deceive myself into thinking otherwise (important: because my CBT therapist has said it will work. I think this position whereby the speech act is authorized, or legitimized, is important to whether we think this a lie or not.)
By your stated conditions, how is this not lying to yourself?
Posted by: Alan Page | Jan 12, 2009 4:36:24 PM
The legal definition of "fraud" may shed some light on the normative, rather than descriptive, dimensions of lying. Such definitions usually feature elements like:
1. Intent to mislead;
2. to "mislead" meaning to take a course of action likely to induce in another a belief that the actor believes to be false;
3. the actor also believing that the listener will arrive at the false belief to his or her detriment.
A "white lie" may, perhaps, omit the third element. But this definition generally covers non-verbal communication and lies of omission, and it is premised on the intent of the speaker with respect to the belief state of the listener.
As for its moral foundation: fraud is generally considered bad for business, discouraging contract formation and shifting resources without creating any additional efficiencies.
One can also look at, e.g., the legal test for defamation, which in the US often sets the bar at "recklessness with regard to the truth of the statement", and requires a showing of some detriment to the plaintiff. Here the damage comes from being lied about, not lied to.
Examining the moral foundation here, history tells us plainly that defamation statutes were written to create a more economically efficient alternative to duels of honor. (Note also that the UK, with real flesh-and-blood royals and aristocrtats still prancing around, the truth of your statement is still not a defense to defamation.)
So: from a legal standpoint, we have a small range of definitions for actionable "lying", depending on who is bringing the suit and how he or she was affected by the lie. It also appears that the legal condemnation of such lies is premised on the principle of efficiency in a liberal capitalist economy.
Posted by: Picador | Jan 12, 2009 4:38:59 PM
My point being: the legal contours of what constitutes a "bad" (actionable) lie depends on what kind of lie is told, to whom. Thus, a reckless statement about sometrhing inconsequential is not actionable, but a reckless defamatory statement about someone is. A false commercial statement is only actionable if the speaker actually believes it to be false, AND if the speaker hopes thereby to gain advantage. And so on. I think the analogies to moral status are clear.
Posted by: Picador | Jan 12, 2009 4:44:57 PM
It seems that exercises like this, for all their worth, are mostly just digging out one's intuitions about the concept. I'm not sure how we would go about deciding between one view that lying necessarily involves, say, affirming a falsity, and another that denies that claim. For what it's worth though, my intuition is that to lie is to knowingly affirm to someone a falsehood with the intent of deceiving them. That definition, along with the idea that lying is permissible under certain circumstances, captures my intuitions about the concept in all the cases I've thought through.
Great post.
Posted by: Michael Glawson | Jan 12, 2009 7:20:35 PM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vuW6tQ0218
I hope it was a mistake and not a lie that you got John Cleese and Graham Chapman confused.
Posted by: Mike M. | Jan 12, 2009 7:36:40 PM
Among all the types of lies postulated here, one seems to be missing -- the lie that is deception for its own sake, not to defraud, defame or mislead. Unless there's no such thing? Is a lie for its own sake really about control? Most habitual liars, it seems to me, are very controlling people, lying being one aspect of that mindset. And if there's nothing to gain but control of what listeners accept as truth, is that nonetheless lying for gain?
Posted by: Elatia Harris | Jan 12, 2009 8:06:22 PM
Mike M., the dead parrot sketch is definitely Michael Palin. Graham Chapman is in the Silly Interview sketch.
...unless you're...lying?
Posted by: lambness | Jan 12, 2009 9:06:56 PM
Abbas's closing example is very interesting, though it might open up a door to adaptationist stories of the sort Jerry won't want to address here. The example made me think of all sorts of nonlinguistic ways in which we misrepresent the truth, such as wearing camouflage. Should that count as lying? Should it count only if one is concealing oneself from enemy soldiers, or is it also lying when one is wearing bright-orange camo on a deer hunt? What about a woman wearing a corset to appear thinner, or a balding man with a combover? (We even say of the latter that "he's not fooling anyone".)
As I said in my previous comment, if we construe lying broadly enough, and judge it wrong, then it's hard to imagine what would be left over for human beings to appropriately do.
It is the condemnation as wrong that needs to be discarded, I think, and not the broad construal. It seems to me there's no good reason to think of lying as stopping at the boundaries of language, and also that these nonlinguistic behavioral forms of deception (which are also observed in, e.g., octopuses and crows), deserve the same kind of account as the pseudo-eyes on butterfly wings, that is, one that treats them as natural, and as far more pervasive, than the account that sees them only as deviations of human morality.
Posted by: Justin E. H. Smith | Jan 12, 2009 9:09:36 PM
Here is my attempt at defining lying: To lie is to communicate a proposition to an audience, with the intention of getting the audience to believe that proposition, even though one knows that the proposition is false.
1. So not all lies need involve "asserting" or "affirming" anything, in the strict sense of those terms. Suppose that I ask a question that has a presupposition, with the intention of deceiving you into believing the presupposition ("When did Albert stop snorting cocaine?" -- "Oh, didn't you know that he used to snort cocaine? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything...") I think this could be a lie.
2. Contrary to what Abbas Raza proposes above, I don't see how my communicative action could even count as an attempt to execute my intention to deceive you unless I communicate a proposition that I believe to be false. But (as Abbas Raza agrees) if the proposition that I am communicating to you is in fact true, my action surely is not a lie -- even if I think that the proposition is false, and communicate it with the intention of deceiving you. (In this case, I was planning to lie, but I fail to execute the plan.) So I agree with Michael Glawson that a lie must involve communicating a proposition that one knows to be false.
3. Since I'm a contextualist about terms like 'knowledge', I think that the term 'lie' can be used in systematically stricter or looser senses, depending on how strictly we understand the term 'know' in this definition. In many contexts, the term 'lie' is used fairly loosely -- so that to count as "knowing" that the proposition that one is communicating is false, it is enough that (i) it really is false, and (ii) one believes that it is false.
Posted by: Ralph Wedgwood | Jan 12, 2009 9:41:34 PM
Justin, isn't lying done with the whole face and body, and not just the voice? So that a person could be lying in Venetian dialect, understood by few people beyond Venice, yet appear very much a liar. If we find deception disagreeable -- we are lying under pressure because we think we have to -- we almost can't help showing what we're doing. Is not that, too, natural?
Posted by: Elatia Harris | Jan 12, 2009 10:00:02 PM
The reason why we find it so difficult to define a lie might be because of the unintentional derogatory meanings attached to the term, for instance, words like "mislead" and "false" are used - which have negative connotations. We can't accept those definitions as we see from daily use that the right or wrong of lying depends more on the situation and the intention.
I propose this definition:
Lying is an act of communication between multiple individuals* which signifies an intent to obscure what one deems to be an accurate portrayal of the world.
By replacing the meaning-laden words with neutral words, we can see that lying is a neutral act. The usual moral vilification of lying comes as a result of the negative intent commonly associated with lying eg. when one lies to provide oneself with benefit at the expense of another. However, obscuring the actual state of events can be good when there is moral purpose behind it eg. telling one's terminally ill parent that one isn't going to die.
Hence we can see that by this definition, lying is a neutral act -- it is entirely the intention that determines if the act is right or wrong.
All the questions posed above can be answered by this definition, except perhaps this: "Can one lie to oneself?”", and only because the term individual* is imprecisely/improperly defined. I think that lying to oneself is merely a figure of speech, which signifies that there are parts of you that contain a certain knowledge and other parts which choose not to. Hence the two parts seemingly possess individuality and seem to be different "selves".
Posted by: Christine | Jan 13, 2009 2:38:23 AM
^telling one's terminally ill parent that one isn't going to die for the sake of the person's happiness. Or likewise, white lies are not morally condemned, because they make people happy (in fact, telling someone straight that he/she's fat, even when it's the truth, would hurt the person - and most would consider it one's duty to avoid telling the truth in this situation)
Posted by: Christine | Jan 13, 2009 2:42:31 AM
Alan,
Some meaning can, of course, be given to the phrase "lying to oneself." I don't deny that. But I feel that that use of lying is a sense distinct from the one Jerry is talking about. If one is talking about growth in its simplest sense of increase in size, it should be clear that there is a different sense when saying things like "I am trying to grow as a person." No? Otherwise, in the simple philosophical sense of "lie" that we, I think, are talking about, you start to appear schizophrenic with formulations like, "I told myself A, knowing it to be false, with the intention of deceiving myself," and you violate privileged self-knowledge. (I think thinking about the subconscious unnecessarily confuses things at this level.) I think in your examples, the statements one is purportedly lying to oneself about are not clear-cut facts of the "Islamabad is the capital of Pakistan" type. "I am a courageous person" is something that can always be debated because most people sometimes are and sometimes aren't. When I say that to myself, I may simply be reminding myself that I tend to forget instances of my being courageous, am too self-critical, etc. In any case, I should admit that I am very suspicious of psychoanalytic approaches to doing philosophy!
Ralph,
We simply have different intuitions about what should count as a lie. I believe that if there are one hundred doors, and you ask me which one your goat is behind, and I have no idea where your goat is, but I point to a definite door (say number 60) and say "It is behind that one," I have lied. I do not know my statement to be false, but I still would consider it a lie. Secondly, I do NOT agree that "if the proposition that I am communicating to you is in fact true, my action surely is not a lie." In my mind, and to my instincts, that IS a lie.
In a private email, Jerry comes up with interesting objections to the "intent to deceive" argument (my own condition #2 above):
Consider the following case. A student plagiarizes . The Dean knows he has,and the student knows the Dean knows. But the student knows that the Dean will never impose any punishment unless he confesses. So when brought before the Dean he denies having plagiarized. My intuition is that the student lied although he had no intention to deceive the Dean.
Another case. A witness to a crime has been threatened not to tell the truth in court. So he says "Jones was with me the night of the murder" on the witness stand. He does not want the jury to believe him. He does not utter the statement with the intention of misleading the jury. He utters it because he does not want to sleep with the fishes.
I agree that I think both of these cases to be lies, but am not immediately sure how to modify my conditions to include them while not letting other more innocent statements also getting caught in the net. Any ideas?
Posted by: S. Abbas Raza | Jan 13, 2009 4:23:58 AM
I love to lie, just like I am lying now.
Posted by: Pedro Toledo | Jan 13, 2009 7:50:04 AM
Okay, in light of Jerry's counterexamples, given two comments up by me, I am getting rid of my condition 2!
Posted by: S. Abbas Raza | Jan 13, 2009 7:57:30 AM
It's a difficult subject but also as you note a fun one for philosophers. A few years back I was one of a small group of philosophers who recorded a CBC Ideas show on lying. I thought about teaching a seminar on the subject and I admire your bravery.
-----------------------
CBC Ideas
Tuesday, November 4
LYING
Everyone agrees that lying is, generally, a bad thing. But what's really wrong with it? Philosophers Michael Blake, Samantha Brennan, Arthur Ripstein and IDEAS host Paul Kennedy discuss the truth about lying.
Posted by: Samantha Brennan | Jan 13, 2009 10:21:54 AM
I think it's a riot that no one has inquired what I found out about Dr. Dworkin when I phoned UC Davis to verify his existence. Underpin that to your philosophy. I cannot wait for Lying Around--Part 2.
Posted by: Frances Madeson | Jan 13, 2009 12:15:27 PM
But, there is more to lying, as we shall see after installment two..
Posted by: Felix E F Larocca MD | Jan 14, 2009 11:50:32 AM
I find the general thrust of this conversation really interesting, but, while I have no expertise within evolutionary science, I couldn't help being intrigued by the adaptationist conjecture.
I'd tend to agree that communicative abilities in a social population is likely to increase fitness within that population. Hence, language use within a community looks like something that, given the right environmental factors, will be selected. And you might be able to understand social disapproval of lying within that framework.
But lying... it seems that insofar as language could be used to deceive other members of the community, the ability to lie might, by giving the lier a social advantage, increase the fitness of individuals within populations. So it's possible to look on it as an adaptation born of intra-community competition and selection.
Coupled with the (we suppose) more primitive aversion to lying that arises out of social norms and group interest, this presents us with a set of environmental factors which point towards the selection of ever more sophisticated, more sophistic, language skills. If lies are to bequeath an advantage on the lier, it seems that selection will favour those who are able to lie and **never get caught**. Forms of lying that will be of use here are "altruistic lies," those lies that have either indifferent or beneficial effects on the behaviour of the community, and yet still bequeath an advantage on the lier.
I've already risked the accusation of over-ambition in this post. But I thought it was an interesting train of thought. I'm sure there's research done on this issue... does anyone have any references?
Posted by: Fionn | Jan 17, 2009 12:25:10 PM
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