The Truth, the whole Truth, and nothing but…

Bailiff:  Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Witness:  Do you want the truth as it is, or the truth as I see it?

I’ve never been called to testify in court or been sworn in by a bailiff. Being a long-time fan of Perry Mason and Law and Order, I have seen it portrayed more times than I can count. Yet each of us repeats this oath, at least by implication, whenever we share an opinion, relate a story, or explain where we were or what we were doing to an inquiring spouse, family member, close friend or employer. All of us take for granted that, when people talk to us, they are telling the truth. At least that’s what we assume, unless convinced otherwise. Ironically, those who habitually tell lies understand and depend on this being a fact of human discourse. For if all of us treated every word and every story we heard as false, then lying would be the norm, making everything we hear unbelievable and all conversation pointless.

Truth telling, then, is much more than an occasional habit or convenient way we speak to each other when the situation warrants. It is the assumed rule of conversation that allows two or more people to communicate at all. And when it appears to be breached, sullied, or manipulated in some way, we feel violated and misled. The resultant wall of skepticism that emerges between us and anyone whom we feel has lied to us—whether someone we personally know or authority figures in the workplace, the media, or in government—the basis of that relationship is forever called into question. 

But can anyone really tell what is the truth? When witnesses utter their courtroom oath, they can do no better than relate what they think is true, nothing more and nothing less. It is left to judges and juries to assess the credibility of their testimony. No matter where we are or with whom we are speaking, two very important and timeless philosophical questions about truth are always in play:  epistemology (what can humans know for certain), and metaphysics (what is the nature of reality). Put more simply, every time we express any opinion about what we think is true, we reveal to others what we think is knowable and what we believe to be real. That means we are marching in step with the long procession of men and women who have tried to discover, understand, and, where possible, live in harmony with truth. In fact, our yearnings to know the truth have inspired most if not all of the intellectual, spiritual and creative impulses that have given birth to our most distinctive cultural achievements: language, math, science, the arts and religion.  

It seems to me that, in attempting to ascertain the truth about anything, all of us tend to plant our cognitive flag on the apparent solid ground of one of these two premises:

1.     TRUTH (that is Reality as it actually is) is absolute, unchanging, and knowable—at least in part—and we humans must apply our best critical thinking to seek to understand it and live in accordance with it,

- or -

2.     truth does not exist in any absolute form, but is a rather changeable and parochial agreement about reality that enables us to live and work with those with whom we share this perspective, for as long as that consensus holds.

I suspect many of us want to think that the first of these two propositions is correct, even if, on a daily basis, we must operate as if the second is actually the way things really are. As a school administrator I spent hours listening to conflicting stories about the truth presented to me by students, teachers and parents. Trying to discern what really had happened or had been said, I realized that, even a Solomonic judgment of TRUTH would not change individual perceptions, rendering this a question of more vs. less compelling evidence, reliable vs. less reliable narratives. During such moments I often heard my colleagues mouth the cliché: perception IS reality.

Hearing this I would nod, accepting it as a fact of life among human beings who, like me, can’t help but see things through subjective and biased lenses. Yet the phrase would also make me cringe, for it seemed to dismiss the possibility that Truth could be ascertained or even matter. It struck me then as it does now that we live in a world where those with the loudest or most persuasive voices often become the arbiters of what is true and what is false. Perception may be reality for some-—I know marketing experts think this way-—but does that make it TRUE in any absolute, objective or factual sense? Or, are we stuck with having to decide what is true from a smorgasbord of claims about my truth and your truth, their truth and our truth—whichever best suits our appetite at the moment?

The challenge of discerning what is true is as old as the human adventure. In my lifetime alone, revelations from the Vietnam War (The Pentagon Papers), politics (Watergate, Irangate, presidential infidelities, more obfuscations and cover-ups than a short essay can mention), and election irregularities and suspicions (1960, 1968, 2000 and 2016) have created a climate of mistrust and cynicism that threatens the fabric upon which E Pluribus Unum depends. Four of the nation’s five presidential impeachment crises (two for the same person) have served as both landscape and soundtrack for baby boomers and generations X, Y and Z. What a sobering indicator of how truth and truth telling have been largely emptied of meaning. Perhaps this era’s most inconvenient truth is that Truth is no longer the highest of ideals but the easiest of commodities to buy and sell.   

As if matters could get worse, our now twenty-month COVID-19 onslaught has brought truthfulness to the brink of public consternation.  What is the TRUTH about the Wuhan lab, about testing results, case counts and death tolls attributed to the virus? What is the efficacy of masks, vaccines and other therapeutic measures designed to prevent, contain or cure this invisible menace? Obviously our country is torn on the question of the veracity of those voicing opinions that are so divergent or contradictory. Listening for the truth among the cacophony of voices that are in our ears 24-7, be they past or current presidents, their surrogates and opponents, network and cable news talking heads, medical authorities, and congressional leaders—one can’t help but be torn in trying to ascertain what is real, what is spin, and what agendas are being served. To accept one side over the others appears gullible; to deny them all, cynical; to pick and choose between the alternative reality spinners, schizophrenic.

Trying to discern the truth in such an environment, without the means or time to digest or assess the veracity of competing claims, is both mind-boggling and sense-numbing. Yet if history has anything to teach us, it is that we have been here before, or at least in predicaments as vexing as the ones we are now facing. While these are among “the times that try men’s souls.”* (and women’s souls as well), “in the end truth will out.”** And for truth to prevail in these soul-trying times, we will all need to be vigilant in “testing the spirits”*** to see which stand the test of veracity and which prove deceptive, illusory and erroneous. Realizing that my own search for the Truth that endures beyond the perspective of my own time and space will yield imperfect conclusions, I must force myself to listen to and read both inside and outside my comfort zone. For no single news source or authority has a corner on the Truth, and all of them are prone to their own unique spin, fakery, and propaganda.

Here I stand, on 21st-Century ground that is uneven and shaky, somewhere between realistic optimism and pessimistic cynicism. Perhaps you stand with me on this uncertain terrain. If only the big issues of life were as easy to understand as a quick round of Q and A on To Tell the Truth. But they are not, pushing us to be both critical thinkers and open-minded listeners when claims of truth and fact are at stake. But that is what we must be, and that is the commitment we must make if we are to keep living in a world where things are never black and white, but always shaded somewhere in between. 

I’ll conclude my ruminations on truth and truth telling by sharing a few resources that have both inspired and challenged me over the years:

·      Lying (1989), a thorough analysis of deception and veracity by Sisela Bok.

·      Liar Liar (1997), and The Invention of Lying (2009), two humorous cinematic parables that provide much food for thought about dishonesty and truth telling.

·      The juxtapostion of opposing truth narratives in A Few Good Men (1992), convincingly portrayed by Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruise.

·      Any (and all) of the classic movies directed by Frank Capra (Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, It’s a Wonderful Life, Meet John Doe and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town), whose truthful and forthright lead characters stand in sharp contrast to those who use deception to fuel their ambitions for power.

·      The conversation between Pontius Pilate and Jesus of Nazareth found in John 18:28-38, ending with Pilate asking, “What is truth?”

*Thomas Paine, The Crisis

**William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice

***I John Ch. 4, The New Testament