Book Review: Lying, by Sam Harris

I just finished Lying by Sam Harris. It's short — more of an essay really.

The core idea: lying is almost always ethically bad and results in worse outcomes. Even those little white lies we tell ourselves are kind.

Often, you lie to avoid confronting something harder. Like telling a friend they look good in a dress when they don't. What you're really dodging is the real conversation — maybe they need to lose some weight, maybe it's about health. Telling them the truth is actually a demonstration of how close you are. A real friend says "honestly, I don't think that one suits you." That's hard to say. But it's more helpful.

There's also just the practical problem. You have to remember what you said to whom. Harris gives an example of gifting soap you nicked from a hotel and lying about where it's from. Then your kid shouts out that you're lying in front of everyone. Now you look like an idiot, and your kid has learned lying is fine.

And there are often better things to say than lies. Your daughter shows you a painting. Instead of "Wow, you're the best artist in the world!" — which you both know isn't true — you could just say "I love that you made this." That's probably true. And it's strong enough confirmation that you support them without building a false reality.

This is where it gets tricky though. What if a murderer is at your door, asking if you're hiding someone inside? What if it's Nazis looking for Anne Frank? If we live in a world where you think there's a chance to change someone's ethical framework, maybe you say something like "is it really necessary you do this?" — make them question their behaviour. Or "I wouldn't tell you even if I did know." But not all situations give you that power. Sometimes the person is just mindless (we have to accept that not all humans live by the same moral standards). You might come to the conclusion that it's certain the outcome of telling the truth is certainly not better. In that instance — life or death — lying might be justified. Same applies to war or espionage. We're in such critical ethical and physical conflicts that the normal rules bend.

Another hard example Harris positions us in is imagining telling your wife on your deathbed that you cheated on her 30 years ago. What does that accomplish? You transfer your guilt to her pain. It is really worth it in the short time you have left? You might think to yourself, a lot of arguments for lying can be made when time is short. And in this instance, either the lie sat with you so long and was on your concious such that your wife already knew, or you're just simply a liar already and the addmitance at the end of your existance won't save you from it.

In Harris' interview at the end of the book with Ronald A. Howard, Ronald provides a way to justify any lie against the conditions of time, which is a quote I really like:

"No matter how much time I've got left, I want to live a life that I have no regrets about."

In some instances, you might think it's better to lie if it truly does bring you less regrets. I don't have a clean answer on this one. Honesty is generally the path to fewer regrets — you don't have to maintain false realities. But as with the example above, there are grey areas.

It's a short read. Worth picking up to dip your toes in ethics for a day.