Lying to Yourself
The great danger in lying to ourselves is that we know exactly what we want to hear. We are, all at the same time, our own con man, mark, and shill. We whisper in our own ears, and we fall for it, time after time. Or, at least I do.
Perhaps no modern example demonstrates the insidious nature of the lie, and how devastating its results, as Putin’s fantasies underlying the Ukrainian invasion. Even the official Russian term “Special Military Operation” is a giveaway that Putin is not being straight with himself, or with you.
Putin’s murderous campaign is built upon three pillars. The first is that Ukrainians are actually just Russians who have gone astray and need to be folded back into the family. “Our choice, not yours.” The second is that Russian civilization is a great God-inspired beacon of humanity’s ultimate greatness, to be spread by whatever means works. The third is that Russia has the capacity to pull this off, which always has been less than certain.
Hitler’s “master race” proposition similarly allowed him to leverage all kinds of grievances and energy into a nearly successful adventure to master all of Europe, if not more. The German people, crushed, impoverished, and humiliated, were more than happy to be told they weren’t the problem and there was an easy answer.
The singular greatest fault with the Master Race theorem was not simply that it was a lie, but that it necessitated a gradation of mankind, with somebody at the bottom, people who had to be eradicated. Putting aside the ghastly moral horror of the Final Solution, the horrifying notion is that Hitler might have succeeded in his conquests had he not created for himself this overwhelming distraction.
MAGA? Well, that’s for another piece.
These examples, however, serve to teach us a key lesson, that one of the most effective avenues for lying to ourselves is grievance. Being “unreasonably” passed over for a promotion, living in a marriage progressing from boredom to sniping to repetitive set-piece battles, whatever, any such thing can quickly give us a “justifiable reason” for gambling, drinking to excess, having an affair, or not getting out of bed in the morning. Name your poison.
We believe our own lies because we don’t want to hear the truth. That our business partnership is falling apart couldn’t have anything to do with us, rather, we were lulled into partnership by bad actors. We’re in deep tax arrears because our accountant wasn’t paying attention. And so on.
It was my experience in law practice that lying to ourselves is not a one-off, but a repeated pattern. More often than not my new matrimonial client was not only being treated shamefully by their spouse, but they were at risk of getting fired, persecuted by Canada Revenue, and the only friends they had left were their drinking buddies. Often enough, when I dished out some tough love, I’d join the list of persecutors.
Whether you’re Putin, Hitler, or Trump, the truth is that you’re not the victim, you’re the problem. The lie may be beguiling and comforting, but it’s still a lie. The consequences are always the same, and they’re bitter.
The good news about self-lying is that you don’t need to dance around with the liar, trying to let them down gently or letting them save face. You’re dealing with you. You’re allowed to be direct.
“I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul”, wrote William Ernest Henley when recovering from multiple amputations.