Why Do We Lie?
Each of us can recall plenty of instances of deception. Politicians lie in their campaign promises, parents lie to children about Santa Claus, and children lie to teachers about their homework. Not to mention data falsification, which even happens in scientific research. For example, there’s the story of the “Piltdown Man,” whose remains were faked by an amateur archaeologist in 1912, or the countless photos “proving” the existence of the Loch Ness Monster. Yet the very essence of science is to uncover the truth!
From early childhood, we become skilled in the art of lying, and no matter what we say, it’s not that hard for us to lie to a stranger on the street, a coworker, or even a loved one. That’s because the ability to lie is an inherent part of our character, standing right alongside our evolution-driven need to trust others. The only thing that sometimes stops us from lying is the mind’s ability to override our instincts. In other words, sometimes our upbringing tells us that telling the truth is the right thing to do, even if it might hurt.
Classifying Lies
One of the largest studies on lying was started over 20 years ago by social psychologist Bella DePaulo (her research became the basis for an intriguing book). In her most famous experiment, 147 people were asked to record every attempt to lie or deceive someone over the course of a week.
The results showed that, on average, we lie at least once a day.
Fortunately, the vast majority of lies told by participants were harmless: most often, people lied to hide their own failures or to spare the feelings of those they cared about. The second most common reason for lying, according to DePaulo and her colleagues, was to cover up laziness (“I couldn’t do it because… /insert some amazing story/”). The third reason was to make themselves seem more important or impressive to others.
So, Dr. House was right: everybody lies, but not all lies are the same.
Lies don’t exist without a purpose, and there’s every reason to believe that, except for rare pathological cases, we start lying exactly when all other “legal” ways to achieve our goals have failed.
DePaulo’s research team suggested that we, as a species, learned to lie around the same time we developed speech. And, like all our natural behaviors, the ability to deceive was originally tied to survival. Lying is a kind of human camouflage, a special tactic that lets us achieve more (find a better partner, get more resources, etc.) by influencing others indirectly—through manipulation rather than brute force.
Even in today’s world, where we still compete for resources, deception as a strategy for success hasn’t gone anywhere. In fact, it’s grown even more widespread, because modern people often prefer to solve problems through indirect influence.
“Telling the Truth Is Easy and Pleasant”…
…which can’t always be said about lying! A good lie, on the contrary, takes a lot of effort: preparation, cleverness, intelligence, and well-developed higher brain functions like planning, attention, and self-control. Because it’s not easy, we learn to lie gradually: it first happens somewhere between ages two and five, and we master the art of deception by adolescence. So, all our successful and unsuccessful lies as adults are a direct result of how well we once managed to fool our parents about skipping school.
Even though many parents worry about their children lying, it’s actually a sign of healthy psychological development. As we grow, we just refine our skills in lying and cunning, and this is connected to the fact that, as we mature, we increasingly try to put ourselves in others’ shoes. This is critically important for learning to understand other people’s intentions and beliefs. For example, a two-year-old lies to avoid punishment, while an eight-year-old might also lie occasionally to avoid hurting their beloved grandmother’s feelings.
The Limits of Lying
Like Bella DePaulo, psychologist Dan Ariely has been fascinated by the nature of lying for over 15 years. During this time, he’s conducted several experiments at various universities, one of the most interesting being a math test experiment.
Ariely gave a group of participants a test with 20 problems to solve in just five minutes. For each problem solved, they would receive a cash reward, and the researchers claimed they wouldn’t check the number of problems solved—the participants had to report it themselves.
The experiment showed that the vast majority of participants lied to the researchers: almost all claimed to have solved an average of six problems, while the real, honest number was four.
But the interesting part isn’t that many people lied (that could be predicted from the experiment’s setup), but that people generally didn’t exaggerate too much, even though doing so would have earned them more money. Ariely suggested that most of us (except those with psychological disorders) have an internal “lying barrier” that keeps us from lying too much. This barrier is called self-deception: we want to see ourselves as honest, so we lie “just a little”—enough to still consider ourselves good people.
So, does that mean our whole life is a series of endless lies? If we lie every day, then everyone around us must be doing the same. What if the compliment you got from a coworker yesterday wasn’t sincere? Or your husband wasn’t really at the gym?
Living with the constant awareness that we could be deceived at any moment isn’t easy. That’s why, along with the mechanism of deception, our brains have developed a defense mechanism: a natural tendency to trust others. Most of the information we get about the world comes from other people, so we have to believe them by default. After all, when someone tells you they’re a teacher, you don’t run off to check, do you? You simply have no reason not to believe them, because you assume they have no reason to lie.
By nature, people are naive, so the only way to protect our minds from chasing shadows is to assume by default that, contrary to Dr. House’s famous saying, most people are telling the truth most of the time. And if they do lie, it’s usually just about small things.