How do you know if I'm telling the truth?

Three handy ways to spot lies - including your own

Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash

“Your lips are moving, your lips are moving, your lips are moving and you lie lie lie”. That’s the chorus of the eponymous song by Meghan Trainor as well as the punchline to a joke about politicians, but arguably it could apply to all of us. The idea that most of what, or even everything we say is a lie, or at least not the truth, is the subject of my upcoming book (which if you’re a paid subscriber you’ll receive for free), and my recent research as well as spiritual explorations have led me to devise a handy guide for myself on how to spot a lie that I’d like to share. These aren’t the usual tips on lying like watching body language, or listening to tone of voice, both of which are of only limited utility since we a lie looks different depending on how we were raised - for instance, lack of eye contact is considered dishonest in some cultures and respectful in others.

My tips are different because they are about the unconscious or inadvertent lies that most people tell - including me - with either the mistaken belief or unexamined assumption that we know what truth is. And the reason I’m sharing them is because when we believe a lie we often feel a whole host of extremely unpleasant emotions - like anger or rage, sadness or despair, scorn or hatred - which can then lead to further actions including the spreading of more lies in the form of verbal attacks or gossip. While “the truth hurts” is the common saying, I believe it’s actually the lie that hurts - the truth feels good once we finally know where it is, and where it is not.

Yes, some of our lies are deliberate, like the ones that children try out as they grow (I didn’t take the cookie) or that we use to save ourselves from painful consequences (lying to a boss about the reason for a work absence) or others from hurt feelings (lying about our availability for a a social engagement we don’t want to attend), but most lies are completely unconscious - including the ones that look to others as if they are being made consciously. When we spot a lie we don’t need to take action - we don’t need to hurl accusations at others or ourselves, since those who utter them often fervently believe what they are saying. We can simply recognize the lie and choose to respond, or not, from a place of ease rather than from resistance or painful emotions due to the lie. And we can best respond if we recognize our own lies so that we don’t respond to one lie with another.

So here are my top three signs that something is a lie.

1. You say, hear, or think the words: “It’s a fact”.

   None of us have enough knowledge to say that anything is 100% certain. All our knowledge comes from a select type of experience and education that can never show us the entire truth. Science is about the process of continual observation and trial and error - it’s never settled. History is constantly revised. Language ever evolves. Whenever we are dead certain that we are right or in possession of all the facts, it’s a sure sign that we’ve boxed ourselves into a limiting space, shut off from new information and missing out on the essential curiosity that enables growth and connection.

2. An inference is made.

   Anytime we infer what someone means we can be sure we are entering the territory of lies. Most of our assumptions come from inferences - what we think is behind the words, tone of voice, facial expressions or actions of others. Inferences are seldom accurate, especially when we infer something negative. What is really happening is that we are projecting our own mood or vulnerabilities onto others. Take the simple case of a stranger passing on the street, or a cashier serving you at the store (or a customer serving you). Your mood and your cultural upbringing will determine whether you see those you interact with as friendly, unfriendly, distracted, rude or hostile. Or take a domestic situation - a simple question from your partner like “what’s for dinner?” can result in a host of inferences. I can tell you that when I’m in a good mood if my husband or children ask me that question I take it at face value and find it an easy one to answer. But if I’m in a bad mood then it becomes an extremely loaded question. I infer it to mean a host of things (They think I’m their slave, they think I’m lazy, they expect me to do everything, they are lazy, etc etc etc). I then respond to my inferences, not their words, and usually with some degree of anger, resentment or blame. If they then make their own inferences about what I say, we can soon have a full blown fight about something that has nothing to do with what we are having for dinner.

   There’s an easy way to see an example of how inferences determine your perception. The next time you are spending time with someone and something unexpected happens, or you have an interaction with a third person, compare what you each think about it afterwards. I did this experiment with my husband when we were at the dog park and another dog peed on his leg, after which the owner said a few words. As we left the park, rather than simply venting our frustration to each other about the incident, we objectively compared exactly what we thought about what the owner said. Though we both felt some of the same emotions (irritation towards the owner) our interpretations varied widely - what she meant with her words, what her tone sounded like, what her facial expression conveyed. It was fascinating to see how our individual interpretations differred, and how our own internal worlds showed up in our external judgement. We were both lying - albeit inadvertently - about what the owner meant and what her intentions and attitude were, lies that sprang forth from our own conditioning since we were inferring worlds about her intention and character from a one minute interaction.

3. Someone else is being spoken for.

   Terrorists are motivated by A. Vegans want B. Republicans are trying to C. Liberals think D. My neighbour wants E.

   Whenever we say what another person wants, thinks or feels, especially if they aren’t in the room to speak for themselves, we are lying, even if we think we aren’t. The lies get compounded when we speak for an entire group - even if we feel we are members of such a group - since now we are lumping a number of different individuals, all with different perspectives, into one group, and speaking for them as a whole. I felt immense frustration over the past years at hearing others speak for me. Researchers and pundits stated that they knew the inner workings of people who don’t get the COVID vaccine (they don’t understand science or have a neurological impairment) and the motivations of people who don’t want to wear masks (they are sociopathic). After I got over the anger of such assessments (and I suppose accepted the possibility that I’m sociopathic and brain damaged - who knows, maybe I am! I don’t think so but I don’t know for certain), I became aware of how often we as a society do this - assume we know what’s behind the actions of others, that we understand and can explain the motivations of others without talking or truly listening to them. I also realized how inadvertently blind people may be to their lies since they are operating with a completely different and unquestioned set of assumptions that they cannot see because of their own conditioning. Finally, after spending too much time blaming everyone else for the lies they believe and communicate, I realized that I do this all the time. I assume I know the motivations and desires of others and, worse still, communicate this out loud as if what I think about them is true.

   The news and social media are full of people speaking for others. It is so easy to believe them, especially if we are only watching or listening to sources we agree with. But when we speak for someone else, we are not telling the truth, we are only giving our own perspective and are firmly in the land of our own imagination rather than reality.

   How to Speak the Truth

   The fact is, just like… wait a second, let me restart this section since I’ve already started it with a lie.

   What I believe in this moment is, just like many others, I am blind to my own assumptions and conditioning, for how can I see what I don’t know? Even when I think I am operating with an open mind, I have certain unquestioned assumptions of which I currently have no idea. Over the past three years I had some of my own assumptions blown wide open and discovered mistakes in my thinking. Other mistakes or holes in my knowledge I will learn about in the future. And some assumptions I will likely die never having questioned.

   The easiest way for me to ensure I don’t lie is to remain silent, but frankly for me that’s just not fun! I love talking about the world I see or sharing my opinions. And even if I could silence my outer voice, my inner voice would still be chattering to itself, with lies that if unquestioned would affect my demeanour and actions towards others.

   So I will endeavour to speak the truth and recognize when I’m being overly certain, or stating something as if it’s a fact rather than my opinion. When I am tempted to speak about the feelings or motivations of others - especially if I’m doing so in a negative way - I need to return to myself. We can’t go too far wrong when we speak our feelings - we can say we are hurt, angry, embarrassed, sad and that can come fairly close to conveying the truth of what we are experiencing. We can clearly say what we want or don’t want. And it can really help if we listen to what people are saying about their own feelings and wants and needs and take that as approximating truth as well. But when we are trying to interpret the reasons for and motivations of the words and actions of others, the only thing we can really say is that we don’t understand - that’s much truer than any of our guesses may be.

   The only way for me to get closer to learning and speaking truth is to remain open at all times. I don’t have to discard my values or change my opinions and beliefs every time I hear something contrary to mine, but only by realizing I may not be telling myself or others the truth - my facts may not be facts, my inferences may be flawed, I may be speaking for another - can I allow myself the freedom that comes with curiosity rather than resistance. And when I don’t believe the lies that cause me pain, I open myself to the joy and peace that is available from living in the present moment, the one that is as close to truth as we may ever get.