Just suppose....

It’s a good job we can’t read each other’s minds. The consequences of such total openness would be pretty mortifying.
 
Just imagine if other people knew who I despised or what crime I was about to commit or who I had a massive crush on or how often I was drunk-driving. All those things I was carefully hiding were suddenly on full display, out there for the world to see.
 
And vice versa of course, I could read other people’s minds and know all the dodgy things they were up to. I would know my next-door neighbour was defrauding the company he worked for or had just done a hit-and-run.
 
It would make life better in some ways. If someone was planning a crime, we’d know about it and they could be stopped. Our loved ones would know how much love and affection we had for them. People would know all the things I had in common with them and we could make new friends.
 
People couldn’t lie so easily as we would know straightaway they weren’t telling the truth, and there would be a sudden outbreak of honesty. That’s something that would take a lot of getting used to.

How very reassuring

One thing we all learn as we grow up is the art of reass-urance - how to make the totally weird or alarming seem quite normal and manage-able. If we didn't pick up this vital skill, we'd all feel permanently overwhelmed by the horrors and peculiarities of the world around us.

From the government insisting the pandemic will soon be over, to mommy asking little Rebecca why she's crying, we become adept at playing things down, minimising things, insisting nothing's as bad as it seems.

Sometimes it's to reassure other people who're feeling panicky and anxious and powerless. Sometimes it's to reassure ourselves.

Politicians in particular are well versed in playing things down. No no, poverty isn't as widespread as we think. No no, there are plenty of jobs available.

Parents are equally adept at soothing their children's umpteen worries. No of course we're not getting divorced, darling. No of course that dog isn't going to bite you. No of course the planet's not about to explode.

Those reassurances may be total lies, but rather that than leave someone floundering in a state of helpless fright.

Jenny and I are always reassuring each other about something or other. We both know the other is deliberately reassuring us, and we only half believe what we're hearing, but we feel better for hearing it, which is the whole point.

My being a worried-well type, always imagining the slightest physical aberration might be the first sign of something horrible, reassurances from doctors are especially welcome.

Reassurances from politicians on the other hand aren't at all welcome. We all know frequent lying is part of the job description so I'm seldom convinced.

Finally, I can reassure you that this blog post is entirely harmless and reading it will not precipitate skin rashes, blurred vision or any horrid neurological conditions.

Raised eyebrows

I have a large streak of scepticism. Probably why some people don't take to me - they get the sense I'll never quite believe what they say, even if it's true. And whatever they're enthusiastic about, I might rubbish it.

Well, I'm not quite as bad as that, but I do weigh up what people say very carefully and raise my eyebrows at anything that sounds implausible or far-fetched, or plain ridiculous*. Some of the things I'm sceptical about:

• Any variety of "alternative remedies"
• Politicians' promises
• Gurus who've achieved perpetual bliss and enlightenment
• Adverts offering me an improved memory, boundless self-confidence, increased energy and vitality etc
• Estate agents' descriptions of houses
• Estimates by tradespeople
• So-called sex changes
• Phone calls claiming my internet connection is faulty
• Stories told in celebrity memoirs
• Businesses that claim to be protecting the environment
• People who say DIY is easy
• Lucrative investment opportunities
• Conspiracy theories

I haven't always been such a sceptic. I was absurdly gullible as a youngster, instantly believing what people said to me and then being taken aback to find they were talking nonsense - or plain lying. Years of painful exposure to smooth talkers and devious rogues forced me to be a bit more questioning.

It seems to me that lying is now seen as quite normal, and people in all walks of life lie about virtually everything, assuming nobody will check the facts and uncover the reality. Celebrities in particular spin their personal back stories every which way, and I take all their dramatic confessions with a bucketful of salt.

But being sceptical doesn't stop me enjoying life. It doesn't mean I'm a nihilist or a spoilsport or a curmudgeon. I savour my chocolate truffles and ice cream and pinot grigio and juicy novels and rousing music like anyone else. I'm just no longer such an innocent abroad.

* Despite my habitual scepticism, there are some things I always believe. Like claims of rape, misogyny and domestic violence.

Attention deficit

When I was young, attention-seeking was a cardinal sin. You had to be quiet and unassuming, hiding your light under a bushel. My parents were always telling me not to draw attention to myself, not to show off, not to make a spectacle of myself.

It wasn't just my parents. This was a social norm most people adhered to. Persistent attention-seekers were seen as immature, vulgar, weird, a bit mentally lacking. It was best to ignore them, to avoid encouraging them.

Nowadays we've gone to the opposite extreme. Attention-seeking is routine, and thousands of people spend their lives seeking as much attention as possible. Their every move is broadcast on Twitter, Facebook, and all the other social media sites. We know what they had for breakfast, when they last had a pee, the embarrassing pimple on their nose, their sexual disappointments, their ingrowing toenails, their fear of hedgehogs. There's absolutely nothing they keep to themselves.

They'll do virtually anything to get attention, especially politicians. They tell lies, they make wild allegations, they smear their opponents, they pour out vitriolic abuse. So long as it stirs up heated controversies that keep them in the public eye.

I've never succumbed to this new fashion. I have no desire to be the centre of attention. If anything I have a horror of attention, a deep aversion to other people inspecting me too closely, judging me and gossiping about me. I much prefer to be on my own, enjoying my favourite activities without a flock of curious people around me.

It's not that I have anything to hide. I don't have all sorts of sordid secrets I'm desperate to keep under wraps. I'll reveal anything, even the most personal quirks and oddities, but preferably to an audience of one. I just get nervous when too many people are watching my every move.

So I don't think I'll tell you what I had for breakfast.

(PS: Blogging is just fine. I'm happy to reveal all to my cosy little band of blogging friends)

Lies and more lies

What do you do when someone publishes an unauthorised biography that's "trashy, vindictive and full of lies" about your life? How can you stop thousands of people reading what you regard as damaging tripe?

Aretha Franklin has let rip at the biography by David Ritz which reportedly claims she's jealous of other singers, fought alcoholism at the height of her fame, is delusional about her love life and was promiscuous from an early age.

She strongly contests what he's written. "As many of you are aware, there is a very trashy book out there full of lies and more lies about me. Clearly the writer has no class, no conscience or standards!

"His actions are obviously vindictive because I edited out some crazy statements he had the gall to try and put in my book written 15 years ago. Evidently, he has been carrying this hatred ever since."

Of course if the claims in a biography are unflattering, insulting and destructive, then the subject is highly likely to deny everything and accuse the writer of making it all up, peddling unverified rumours and gossip, and having some deep-seated grudge.

When the two are in such heated disagreement, who can possibly know if the book is telling it like it is or if, as she maintains, it's a pack of vicious lies?

In such situations, my immediate reaction is not to read the book at all, because if its truthfulness is doubtful, what's the point? I might as well be reading some muck-raking tabloid.

The obvious thing to do is sue for libel, but that's a costly business and the outcome might not be in her favour. So far she hasn't gone down that road as she's hoping her statement is enough to stop people reading it, or at least taking it seriously.

But I doubt her reputation will suffer, whatever the wild claims. Is anyone bothered that she's a flawed human being who might have behaved badly at times?

A lack of trust

There are people I trust completely, people I would share anything with, however embarrass-ing or painful or mean or pathetic or peculiar. People who will sympathise, understand, give helpful advice, and also keep it all to themselves. People I feel safe with.

When it comes to people I don't trust, though, I share absolutely nothing of any importance to me, I'm extremely cautious and I stick carefully to neutral topics. And I lie. It's frightening how much I lie rather than tell them the unvarnished truth.

I pretend to be polite and courteous when I'm really seething with rage and dying to make some vitriolic comment. I pretend to be ultra-masculine when I'm really feeling girly and giggly. I pretend to be competent and capable when I feel like I'm fucking up left right and centre. I pretend to be enthusiastic about things I couldn't care less about.

Anything to preserve a bland, anodyne atmosphere that doesn't tempt me to reveal what I don't want to reveal. Anything to ensure the real me is securely locked up and hidden away, not to be glimpsed by unsympathetic eyes.

I hate it when I have to spend so much time lying and pretending. But what else can I do? I don't think I'm especially mistrustful of others. But with certain people, I just sense instantly that to be frank with them about anything at all would be dangerous. They want me to conform to a certain image, a certain role, and if I said anything that contradicted that image, they wouldn't like it. So I keep everything well buttoned-up.

It's especially hard to trust people in today's opinionated society, when we're all encouraged to sneer and scoff at things we barely understand. Who will take the trouble to listen to me properly, to hear me out, to do justice to my most delicate disclosures, when knee-jerk reactions are the order of the day?

I don't bare my soul in a hurry.

"I don't trust easily. So when I tell you 'I trust you' please don't make me regret it" - J Cole

Weekend woe

How very sad that so many people invent exciting, glamorous weekends for themselves because the reality of lonely or humdrum days off is too embarrassing for them to admit to. They want to be in a wild social whirl like everyone else.

A new survey says that 27 per cent of us deliberately lie about our weekend activities to impress others, concocting parties, romantic flings or even trips abroad, because the humble truth of gawping at the TV or having a lie-in makes us seem pathetically middle-aged and past it.

It seems that having lots of friends and a frantic social life is now such a desirable norm that people with empty diaries who just want to watch reruns of The Wire feel there's something wrong with them. They're afraid other people will see them as dysfunctional misfits.

But what's really sad isn't their preferred lifestyle and their lack of company. What's sad is the fact that they choose to fabricate elaborate lies rather than saying, that's how I am, that's how I spend my weekends, what's it to you?

I suspect humdrum weekends are probably the norm for most people, despite assumptions to the contrary. If you actually looked into people's homes on a Saturday evening, you'd find plenty of people in decidedly unglamorous settings, unblocking the sink or changing the cat litter.

And just suppose two workmates are both lying to each other about their weekends. They're telling bigger and bigger whoppers to impress the other. If A has been to a luxury hotel in New York with the sexiest woman in town, then B has to produce an even hotter woman in an even swankier location. While they both know they were really sprawled on the settee guzzling fish and chips.

Well, I don't mind admitting that I spend most of my weekends doing nothing more exciting than cosying up to my loved one, ploughing through a paperback or ambling round the neighbourhood. There are no lightning trips to Venice or celebrity-packed parties. Unless you count that little jaunt with Penelope Cruz of course....

What a whopper

By a strange coincidence, another survey on lying. It reveals our most common lies, and when we think it's okay to tell them. Women, it seems, are better liars than men.

Some 84% of us think certain lies are acceptable - if you're trying to spare someone's feelings, or protect someone, or pretend you liked a present.

According to 55%, women are better liars, even though they claim to lie less often (but are they telling the truth?).

The most frequent lie by men is "I didn't have that much to drink" while women are more likely to say "Nothing's wrong, I'm fine." And there are the usual lies about being stuck in traffic, bums that don't look too big, dresses that were in the sale, and blinding headaches that suddenly come on at bedtime.

Probably my most frequent lie is "No, that's really interesting, tell me more" when I'm actually bored to death by some interminable ramble about the price of groceries or a pregnant celebrity or the mating habits of kangaroos. Somehow I never have the courage to say "For God's sake, shut up before I do you an injury."

Another culprit is "Oh no, I would have reacted the same way, that's quite understandable" when I'm really wondering how on earth someone could get so worked up over something so trivial. Or so predictable. Or so obviously bonkers. The words "Frankly you're a hysterical old bat" don't come easily to my lips.

And I think lying by omission still counts as lying, if you're creating a false impression. If someone says there's nothing wrong with having affairs, and I stay silent, they'll assume I agree even if in reality I think affairs are selfish and cruel.

No, I only lie if it's really necessary. And that's the honest truth.

PS: I've just discovered the woman in the pic may be prone to steatopygia

It's good to lie

Obviously we should encourage children to be honest at all times and not lie. Or should we? New research has found that children who learn to lie at an early age have better developed brains.

Apparently lying stimulates your thinking and reasoning skills, means you use information more creatively, and forges leadership abilities.

I suppose if you look at what's involved when little Jessica tells you, Oh no of course she wasn't playing with matches, she was combing her dollies' hair, you can deduce she's also using her imagination, ingenuity and acting ability, as well as a sense of coherent explanation and plausibility. Clearly her brain's firing on all cylinders.

According to the Canadian research*, one fifth of children learn to lie by the age of two, and by the age of 12 they're all at it, trying to pull the wool over adult eyes whenever they stand to gain from it.

But even if lying is good for the brain, do we really want to encourage it? Should we really be suggesting to children that fibbing is okay, there's no need to be honest all the time?

Most people find the idea of children lying rather shocking, and actively discourage it, but the reality is that adults lie constantly about all sorts of things and often for good reasons. We don't tell the whole truth about ourselves to employers, or parents, or strangers, or police officers. If we think we'll lose out, we readily alter the facts to our advantage.

So isn't it hypocrisy to expect children to behave differently and never ever make things up? Maybe it is.

And think what it'll do for their future career prospects. If they can learn to lie effortlessly and shamelessly, with a completely straight face, well, crikey, they'll be a top politician in no time.

PS: The major message of the study seems to be that children in general don't get enough mental stimulus and end up getting it from undesirable activities like lying. Which doesn't say much for parenting or schooling.

* The Institute of Child Study at Toronto University tested 1200 children aged from 2 to 16

Asking the voters

I do sometimes wonder about the intelligence levels of the Great British Public, especially during an election campaign*. Asked for their opinion on the different offerings, the best they can come up with is "Well, they're all the same really, aren't they?" or "I like that Mr Clegg, he's got an honest face."

Of course if someone's jumped on in the street by a journo as they're off to the supermarket, they don't have time to think carefully about the questions they're asked. Even so, you assume they'd have some considered views about how the country's governed and how the politicians deal with such basic things as poverty and unemployment.

I'm always waiting for someone to say "Well, anyone earning under £10,000 shouldn't have to pay tax" or "If everyone worked part-time, there'd be more jobs." Or something that actually amounts to an interesting idea rather than a vacuous comment.

But no, it's like trying to get blood out of a stone. An alarming number of people give the impression their political awareness goes no farther than whether their wheelie bin's been emptied. No wonder the MPs managed to get away with such rampant expenses-fiddling for so long.

It may be that in private people are more intelligent than they seem in public. Maybe in their own houses they wax eloquent on the finer points of asylum-seeking or maternity benefits or medical treatment, but outside they keep their trenchant views to themselves.

Mind you, when so many politicians are habitually evasive and dishonest about their intentions, and seldom tell you the truth about anything, whether it's the cost of nuclear missiles or their receding hairlines, it's not surprising if people are too sickened to take more interest in politics and form mature opinions about the issues.

Sometimes I have to sympathise with those who can't switch off the party political broadcasts fast enough in favour of something more life-enhancing like a box of chocolates or a blast of Lady Gaga.

*The UK general election is on May 6. The three biggest parties are Labour, Conservative and Liberal Democrat. Right now they are equally popular and the result could be a hung parliament. One or two Green MPs may be elected for the first time.

Lies

It would be nice to say I'm always open and honest, but of course I'm not. I lie from time to time like everyone else.

Sometimes lies are unnecessary and deceitful and cause damage, but often they're essential to smoothe relationships, prevent catastrophes, get jobs or just to protect our well-being.

I can't recall any time when I've deliberately lied for no good reason, just to harm someone or to look impressive. But no doubt I have, I've just conveniently overlooked it.

Certainly I've lied to dodge unwanted invitations or demands, to avoid insulting or upsetting someone, to avoid embarrassing or humiliating myself, or to explain away neglected tasks.

But I've never blatantly lied about myself to impress a woman or an employer or a mortgage lender. Tweaked or glossed the truth maybe, but that's it. I've never posed next to someone else's BMW or invented a high-powered job or claimed I was at school with Mick Jagger. The reason is simple - if the lie was exposed, then I'd never be trusted again.

I don't understand people who lie flagrantly and constantly for no purpose except rampant self-interest, greed and face-saving. Politicians for one. Cheating spouses for another. And of course all those ordinary individuals who just want to seem bigger and better than they really are and hide all their human failings and weaknesses under a flawless facade.

Thou shalt not lie? I don't agree. Lies are sometimes just what's needed. But they should be a temporary lubricant, not a nasty habit.

Thanks to Nicole for the inspiration.
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Wow, Obama made it! The first black American president - and by a thumping majority! It's stunning that so many ordinary Americans had such faith in him and voted for him in such huge numbers.

Bedtime stories

The story of the 105 year old virgin got me thinking. Just how believable are surveys on sex when we have no way of checking people's unlikely replies?

The newspapers are full of breathless headlines about how often, or how little, we're getting our end away. Or how many affairs we've had or which unconventional form of sex. But is it really true?

People are probably more likely to lie about sex than just about anything else. Of course we all want others to think we're having an ecstatic time in bed, that our partners are irresistible sex bombshells, that we can't get enough of it. Who wants to be thought of as a frustrated loner resorting to guilty fumblings in a shabby bedsit?

So when a survey says that 37 year old Jack is at it every night, has had 91 lovers and his wife is insatiable, is it any more credible than Pinnochio giving birth to triplets? Where's the evidence? Especially if he's anonymous and there's nobody out there to say "Him? Are you joking? The only thing that gets him going is the football results."

Survey after survey claims men have had a lot more affairs than women. So exactly who are they having the surplus affairs with? The dogs? A series of Romanian women? Amnesiacs? Other men?

And with sexual frequency, we're obviously relying more on personal memory and estimation than a tangible record of what happened when. How many times in the last month? Ooer, let me think. Choose a number, any number, then double it....

But there again, how many people take any notice of sex surveys, whether bogus or genuine? Sex is such a personal business and preferences so unique, why should we care what other people do? Somehow I think knowing your own loved one's hot spots is more useful than knowing the climax rate in Huddersfield.
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Nicole has a really perceptive and thought-provoking post about lying and deception. Go have a look.

Holiday fibs

Holidays are now such a status symbol that people invariably lie about how things went, making out they were dream-perfect even if they were actually the holiday from hell.

Those typical conversations about what it was like are not all they seem. Sometimes you need a special phrase book to decode the rose-tinted accounts. For example:

"So how was the flight?"

"Brilliant. We only paid a fiver each and then we got an upgrade." (Diabolical. We had to pay £50 for excess baggage, we took off four hours late and my suitcase was stolen)

"So what was the hotel like?"

"Brilliant. Massive room overlooking the Bay of Whatsit. Cordon bleu food. Complimentary room service." (Appalling. They were still building it. The room was hamster-size. We had food poisoning for three days)

"Good weather?"

"Brilliant. Sunshine all the way. Almost too hot for comfort. And the week before it was torrential rain. Luck of the devil." (Horrendous. Permanent downpour. Whole area was flooded. We had to hire a boat. My new camera fell overboard)

Jenny and I are actually quite frank about our holidays. If they're disappointing, it's not our fault, after all, it's down to other people's cock-ups. And we don't see holidays as status symbols, just as a bit of fun and novelty. We happily admit to being let down by Verona, underwhelmed by Connemara and unimpressed by Amsterdam.

Other people are amazed by our honesty, as if it's a breach of etiquette or a mental aberration. But who are they fooling with their glittering fibs? They forget we've all been on the same boat, or should I say unhygienic cruise ship. Why not come clean?

Lying politicians

I really want to believe in politicians. I really want to believe in their promises, their beaming smiles, their grand plans. I truly want to believe that once they're elected, the country will be a better place and all our lives will be happy and complete.

But I don't. I just don't. I've seen so many politicians over so many decades, and been betrayed and let down by so many of them, that I no longer have any faith they'll do what they say.

What else can I think when the new English Wonder Boy, the new Saviour, Flash Gordon himself, who on Thursday had promised us all genuine 'democratic accountability', had on Friday - the very next day - agreed that MPs should not be subject to the freedom of information provisions.

I can't say I'm surprised. I don't kid myself any more. Politicians lie. They lie all the time, day in and day out. They lie about everything. They lie about the small things, they lie about the big things. They lie about weapons of mass destruction, cash-for-peerages, ending poverty, ending sectarianism. The list is endless.

What's more, they know they lie and it doesn't bother them. The only important thing is gaining power and keeping it, and if that means lying shamelessly, so be it. I could cite one or two honourable refuseniks like Tony Benn and John McDonnell, but of course they're the exceptions that prove the rule.

Cynical, moi? Not at all, just clear-eyed and realistic. I've seen so many false dawns and rude awakenings in my time - from the insipid socialism of Harold Wilson to the mass unemployment and industrial carnage of Margaret Thatcher - that the harsh truth stares me in the eyes.

There's only so many times you can trust those grinning faces before you realise they're all different versions of Jekyll and Hyde. There's a good reason why the popularity ratings always put politicians at rock bottom, with estate agents and car salesmen.

So much as I would like to put my faith in one of those earnest, well-scrubbed faces pleading for my vote and promising me another great leap forward - sorry, guys, don't hold your breath.