To lie or not to lie?
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To lie or not to lie? Brutal honesty can hurt just as much as being lied to. When is honesty morally right, and when is it acceptable to distort reality?
Being lied to is bad, but the truth can sometimes be ruthless too: honesty, shame and lies.
Lying is part of being human. Not as an ethical failing, not as an exception, but as a social reality that affects us all. Anyone who claims never to lie is already lying. The crucial question is not: Do I lie? But: Why do I lie, and what does it cost me?
What it’s all about:
· Why untruths arise, and
· The inner distance between what we show and what is really the case.
Lying as a social practice, and when we are lied to
The research is detailed: people lie every day. Little white lies like ‘I’m fine’, polite lies, tactical omissions – all of this is part of interpersonal reality. These untruths keep social interactions going. They protect our self-image and regulate shame.
But there is also the experience of being lied to. Systematically. By people you trust. Those who have been lied to for a long time begin to doubt reality, their own feelings, and their own judgment.
Not all untruths are the same. There is a vast spectrum between the little white lie and systematic deception.
Why do people lie? Psychological motives
Shame as a motive
Shame is one of the strongest motives. Anyone who feels ashamed of something – a weakness, a mistake, a need – tends to hide this truth. Lying becomes a defence mechanism against emotional discomfort. The problem is that shame, if left unaddressed, grows. Eventually, one begins to believe one’s own lie to be the truth.
Morally uncomfortable truths
Not every lie stems from clear-cut motives. Some people lie because it feels wrong to tell the truth, because they do not want to hurt someone, or because they wish to protect a relationship. This is understandable. But behind the protection of others often lies the protection of one’s own self from the conflict that an honest statement would trigger.
Lying and self-esteem
People with fragile self-esteem lie more frequently, not out of malice but to protect their self-image. The inner tension this creates is considerable: there is a gulf of cognitive dissonance between the image one projects to the outside world and what one truly feels. One’s own untruth takes its toll. Those who live this way see themselves as liars, and this further exacerbates the problem.
Honesty and truthfulness are not always the same thing
Honesty is an inner attitude, a commitment to truthfulness that respects the other person. Sometimes this means keeping silent. Sometimes it means expressing oneself with empathy. Sometimes it also means clearly stating an uncomfortable truth, even if it leads to conflict.
Anyone who uses the truth as a weapon, ruthlessly and without regard for the other person, confuses honesty with brutality. On the other hand, anyone who always wants to be honest but does so by keeping things to themselves, evading the issue or appeasing others, sacrifices authenticity and genuine connection.
The truth is not always pleasant. But truthfulness can be practised, not as a duty, but as a resource.
Lies in a meritocracy: the self and its narrative
Neoliberal society rewards certain ways of presenting oneself. What one says about oneself becomes a currency: in job interviews, on social media, when looking for a partner. Those who fail present their experiences as learning opportunities. Those who doubt feign strength and must, in doing so, delude themselves.
These structural incentives tempt us into self-presentations that bear little relation to our true experience. One’s own lie becomes a second skin. The result: an inner distance from one’s own experience, the persistent feeling of being a stranger to oneself.
Lying in relationships: from white lies to toxic relationships – always honest?
In partnerships, friendships and families, a distinct ecosystem of untruth emerges. Little white lies maintain peace. White lies conceal weakness. But the line between these and toxic relationships is blurred.
When lies are used to maintain control, destabilise the other person or evade responsibility, a line has been crossed. What often perpetuates these patterns is blame: the truth is withheld from the other person, whilst claiming it is for their own good. Distorting reality is one of the most effective forms of manipulation.
Particularly problematic: when the truth is systematically concealed. When selective information shapes the other person’s perception to the point that they no longer know what they have actually experienced, this dishonesty, even without a single directly false word, is profound deception.
Self-deception: one’s own lie; whoever lies becomes a liar to themselves
Self-deception does not mean that someone is lying deliberately. Self-deception means: knowledge that is too threatening to allow is kept out of consciousness through defence mechanisms such as denial or rationalisation.
One actually knows it; one knows that the relationship isn’t working, that one’s self-image isn’t an accurate reflection of reality. But this knowledge is too burdensome. So one denies it, justifies it, pushes it aside. What begins as a small defensive assertion can solidify into a deep conviction.
Self-reflection, sometimes supported by psychotherapy, helps to break this rigidity, not through ruthless confrontation, but through an empathetically guided exploration of the discrepancies between what one believes and what one feels.
When is dishonesty ethically justifiable? Untruth and guilt
Some untruths can be justified. Someone who withholds a truth from another person in crisis—a truth that would destroy them at that moment—is not necessarily acting wrongly. Someone who holds something back in social interaction to preserve dignity is often following a deep interpersonal intuition.
The crucial question: Does the untruth serve to exert control or to provide genuine protection? One’s own self-image or the relationship? Anyone who lies to avoid responsibility is acting selfishly. What counts in the end is remorse when the lie is discovered. Admitting the truth rather than constructing further justifications. The willingness to take responsibility, even for what one has concealed.
Honesty and psychotherapy
In psychotherapy, honesty is not an obligation, but an invitation. The therapeutic space makes self-reflection possible because there is no judgment and shame is not punished.
Psychotherapy strengthens the ability for self-awareness. It helps to explore: What untruths am I perpetuating to myself? What inner security am I lacking that prevents me from getting by without lies? What if I stopped deceiving myself?
Anyone who repeatedly feels lied to in toxic relationships or realises that they are lying to themselves can, through psychotherapy, recognise the patterns that have become ingrained over the years: patterns of denial, concealment and self-deception; in concrete terms, this means not experiencing oneself as a capable agent.
Conclusion: Always honest? Right or wrong?
Always being honest is not a realistic maxim. What is needed is differentiation: between little white lies that avoid friction, and systematic deception that destroys trust.
Those who ruthlessly dish out truths without empathy for the other person cause harm. Those who never face themselves honestly lose the inner security that makes a genuine connection possible in the first place.
Truth, yes, but not brutally. Honesty as an attitude, not as a weapon. This can be practised through self-reflection, good relationships, and sometimes psychotherapy.
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