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The Varnished Truth

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Maybe a case could be made for Nyberg's thesis, but ths book doesn't make it. This is just a bad book.

Nyberg believes that lying and deceit are often morally right, and by all appearances he begins indulging himself in this principle from the first page of the introduction.

On that first page, he says that the "standard view of moral philosophy" is that lying is categorically wrong. That is simply ridiculous. That was the "standard view" for only a brief time, in a small space-namely, among Catholic philosophers in medieval times. It was not the "standard view" in antiquity, nor has it been the "standard" view for the last several hundred years, nor has it ever been the standard view in Judaism.

Then, also on page one, he claims that the standard view of behavioral scientists is that normal thinking consists of direct contact with reality, free of distortion, and claims that any deception is thought to be born of anxiety and symptomatic of pathology. Again, that is simply untrue.

By the time Nyberg wrote this book, that 1950s-style view had been roundly proven wrong by well-known research that most everyone in the field considers sound. By the time Nyberg wrote, the ubiquity of self-deception was commonplace knowledge, as was the fact that those least skilled in self-deception are chronic depressives. Furthermore, the views of Martin Seligman and Lewis Beck, among others, had long-since become orthodox--and they certainly make no claim resembling the one Nyberg foists onto "behavioral science." Research into "optimism" had become the trendy topic among researchers on mental health and mental attitudes. And among psychoanalytically-oriented philosophers, "narrative therapy" had supplanted older ideas, and narrative therapy has never claimed that narratives have to be "true" in the sense Nyberg claims. So, too, the idea of "the patient's reality" had generally replaced old-fashioned truth as the epistemological standard of psychodynamic care.

Continuing on to page two of the introduction, we find Nyberg misleading the reader by claiming that since deceit has an evolutionary function, calling it immoral or unhealthy is "disingenuous if not desperate."

Not *one single* evolutionary biologist or psychologist would *ever* argue that an evolutionary function serves as any kind of moral justification. Indeed, the predominant view is that morality serves to check many genetically-programmed activities. (See, for instance, Richard Dawkins' best-selling book "The Selfish Gene.") The only argument among competent professionals is whether our moral capacity to proscribe wrong actions, whether of genetic or other provenance, is itself genetic or is a matter of culture.

Worse for Nyberg, evolutionary psychologists do not argue that what is naturally selected is needful for health. Exactly the contrary. A foundational principle of evolutionary psychology is that many of our pathologies result from the "adaptive lag" between the conditions in which our genotypes developed and the conditions under which we live. Within evolutionary psychology, we assume that the legacy of natural selection is likely to be highly problematic.

Since Nyberg uses "adaptivity" as a recurring theme is his argument, his (at best) failure to know anything about adaptation undermines his argument.

The rest of the book is about as sound as the first two pages. For instance, Nyberg's portrayal of Sissela Bok's classic work is just weird. Just one of many possible examples: Nyberg claims that Bok is a "top down theorist," whereas he "is interested in particular cases." Now, Bok's method is precisely to proceed according to cases; and she condemns those who ignore cases, saying that to ignore either cases or general principles is to become shallow or rigid. Indeed, most of her book is about cases!

Then, in asking why truth matters, Nyberg completely ignores the well-known reasons: that we cannot make reliable plans or sound choices if we cannot count on info we've been given, and that only the truth allows an individual to make his own choices rather than falling prey to manipulation by others (liars) who rob him of his right to self-determination by giving false info. Instead, Nyberg concocts some fuzzy New Agey nonsense about truth making us feel good in an uncertain universe-a concern not common among advocates of truth telling.

Oh-he also portrays advocates of truth telling as perfectionists who long for certainty, which is at best a straw man. Longing for certainty and valuing truth-telling are by no means the same thing, and the two do not march lockstep through the history of ethics. And very few critics of lying are absolutists, much less perfectionists, at all. He generally portrays his opponents as holding the quirky 1960s "Let it all hang out-say everything in your mind all the time" notion of truth, which bears no relation to what most opponents of deceit have ever said.

And dear me-the things he adduces as considerations in favor of deceit! The valid ones are not news, and his new ones are mostly bizarre. He acts as if he were saying something new, and does not bother to point out, or explain, the twenty-five hundred year history of such considerations. Few moral precepts can lay claim to universality, but the imperative to honesty, with the corollary prohibition of deceit, is one. As a result, the quandaries posed by apparently-needful deceit have been explored for millennia. You would never know it from reading Nyberg.

As for ridiculous claims-well, here's an example: he presents arrogance as a form of truth, and presenting one's self as an equal to those whom one knows to be less intelligent as deception! Please! Arrogance is a matter of holding people in contempt, which has nothing to do with whether one knows one's self to be smarter than they. Accepting people as equals simply means recognizing that human dignity does not correlate with IQ.

This book is at best just a clever presentation of a contrarian position, which differs from well-known positions within the standard argumentarium (at best) in emphasis, claimed self-importance, and confusion. Indeed, it is so rife with ignorance and misstatements, it may well be proff positive that failure to require truthfulness above all corrupts the character. How else explain an author who so obviously doesn't bother to know whereof he speaks, or to speak accurately about what (presumably) he knows?

In short, pretentious, untrustworthy, even silly.

Nyberg addresses the fact that many know but few are willing to admit...that is...as a society and as individuals we all lie. We not only lie, but we condone lying and we often require it from ourselves and from others. Nyberg does a very good job of looking at the concept of lying, and looking at it's beneficial aspects as well as it's harmful ones. Nyberg never slips over the edge into "preachiness" nor does he go too far into radical territory (in either direction). NOTE: The book is written in a relatively easy to undersatnd style, but it is not written at an 8th grade reading level.

If you want a good book that sheds light on the issue of lies and how we all function using them and hearing them...this is the book for you.

This book challenges current conceptions of truth telling and deceiving by exploring their logical and moral complexities, and by providing wry and often funny examples of ways in which deception of certain kinds might actually work to improve the moral character of our relations with others. This is the way good philosophy for non-philosophers ought to be; accessible, witty, humane, unpretentious and free of jargon.

In recent years, advocating dishonesty has become rather fashionable in the philosophical and psychological literature. Within the crowd of these defenders of dishonesty, _The Varnished Truth_ stands out as perhaps the most interesting, savvy, and sophisticated work. Nyberg's goal is to challenge the assumption that dishonesty is always wrong and to show how deception is often a critical aspect of moral decency.

In making his case, Nyberg clearly demonstrates a grasp of much of the subtlety and complexity of honesty in daily life. His style of writing is also clear and engaging, with plenty of examples. And he often lays bare his philosophical presumptions for all his readers to see, if they care to notice. The book also presents some interesting challenges to the conventional view of honesty, such as that honesty goes hand in hand with trust in relationships (140-6). Altruism is certainly no good foundation for the virtue of honesty, as Nyberg so successfully demonstrates.

The most frustrating aspect of the book is Nyberg's cavalier attitude, his utter lack of appreciation for the seriousness demanded by the subject. He claims that his book is "serious but not scholarly," but the book is not nearly serious enough; mere footnotes do not make a book serious. For example, he routinely asserts that everyone lies, but never even bothers to argue for that questionable claim. (I would certainly grant that most people lie some of the time. But Nyberg's point is more that honesty is impossible, rather than merely rare.)

In many places, it seemed as if Nyberg's intent was to create confusion in the minds of his readers. Generating such confusion by highlighting the complexity of an ethical issue is all well and good, so long as the goal is to present a theory which helps make sense of all of that complexity. But Nyberg offers no such theory; he even seems to think it foolish to attempt one. Such messy complexity leaves a reader with little practical guidance in daily choices about honesty except unreasoned feelings.

Overall, a worthwhile read, so long as his loose analyses and clever obfuscations aren't merely tools for your own rationalizations of dishonesty. The virtue of honesty is neither as difficult nor as complicated as Nyberg makes it out to be.