Honesty, the best policy … sometimes

OUR PARENTS insisted on a policy of honesty in our home. Many years later, however, we learned that they were less than truthful themselves.

Only after coming of age did I learn that playing around and poking at a fire with a stick at night would not cause me to wet the bed; our folks always insisted it would.

My siblings and I don’t trust our father anymore, because we also learned that if you swallow chewing gum, there is very little chance of you blowing gum bubbles in your underwear when you fart.

Yet, because of our parents’ influence, we are a pretty honest bunch. I had no choice, because I would blush if I tried to lie. The problem is that I would also blush when I was frustrated, angry or exasperated. So being accused of lying because I was blushing – while I was merely frustrated that no one believed I was telling the truth – created a whole unique set of problems.

These days, dishonesty, lies, tall tales and “alternative facts” are everywhere. We are being fed so much information mixed with misinformation that it makes one’s head spin.

It’s come to the point where I’m wondering if honesty actually is the best policy.

Take the following scenario, for example: your wife or girlfriend asks if the outfit she’s wearing makes her look “heavy”, or she tries an experimental recipe and asks whether you like it, or asks your opinion on a new haircut. 

Now, in all honesty, the outfit makes her look chubby, the meal tastes like used dishwater, and the haircut makes you wonder if the hairdresser had enough gut in his weed trimmer … What do you say?

Here’s a weird suggestion: be kind, be gentle, be sensitive – but by all means, be honest. Tell her that the outfit isn’t complimentary. Tell her she’s amazing, but the get-up takes away from that fact. Tell her you don’t like the dish – otherwise, if you lie and say you love it, she might make it every week. And find a way to tell her to get a new hairdresser.

Here’s why: by being honest – in a gentle, kind way, remember – you prove yourself honest, trustworthy and reliable. So, though she (and I’m only using the woman as an example, because this works both ways) may be offended or wounded, she will know that you are dependable and desire what’s best for her.

However, there is another kind of “honesty” that I despise!

That’s when someone – friend, family or familiar – feels free enough to say something like: “You look fat”, “That hairstyle doesn’t suit you”, or “You must really learn to cook!”

What’s the difference? Author and teacher Gregory Boyd said it so well one day, I will never forget it: “If someone asks you for your opinion, for heaven’s sake be honest. But if they don’t ask for your input into their lives, feel free – by all means – to just shut up!”

Someone once observed that by process of elimination, dishonesty is the second-best policy.

One word of caution, though: before asking for the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but … ask yourself if you’d really, really, really like to know the answer.

For example: An old man on his deathbed looked his wife in the eye and said, “Honey, please be honest with me. I’m dying, but something has really been eating at me. I’ve always found our sixth son a bit weird … a bit of a disappointment, a dim bulb. He has a different father from the other boys, hasn’t he?”

Sobbing uncontrollably, she asks for forgiveness while nodding.

The husband, now curious, asks,  “So… who’s the father?”

Without looking up, she answers: “It’s you…”