Chapter IV. Lying

A LIE is defined by St Thomas to be a speech contrary to one’s mind.¹ It is, then, of the essence of a lie that there should be an intention of saying what is false, that there should be a contradiction between the mind and the external expression of it. One may tell a lie, then, by saying what is true if it is believed by the speaker not to be true, and a lie is told by denying what is false if it is believed to be true. Although a liar usually has the intention of deceiving others, yet such an intention is not of the essence of a lie. A man may be well aware that he has no chance of being able to deceive another, but may say what he knows to be untrue in order to excuse himself or not to stand self-convicted. Men who are known to lie habitually do not expect others to be deceived by what they say, but still they lie when they say what is not true. One may lie to God, though he knows that he cannot deceive him.

In saying that a lie is a speech contrary to one’s mind we understand not only words but gestures, or any signs by which our thought is manifested to others. As St Augustine says: “* He tells a lie who has one thing in his mind and says something else by word or by any signs whatever.”² For we may and do constantly speak not only by word of mouth, but by our tone, looks, gesture, actions, and by the very circumstances in which our words are uttered. The words “I am not guilty ” in the mouth of a murderer have quite a different meaning when they are uttered in the dock and at the feet of his confessor. The words, the tone, the look may be the same; the circumstances make it a true speech in the first case and a sacrilegious lie in the second.

A lie in action is called hypocrisy or simulation, but the malice is the same as in lying words.

Lies are divided by theologians into jocose, officious, and hurtful lies, A jocose lie is told to amuse others; it is something said in joke which the speaker knows to be false, and uttered with the intention of saying what he knows to be false. If what is not true is said in joke without any intention of lying, and in such a way that ordinary hearers would understand, there is no lie. To speak ironically is not to lie.

An officious lie is a lie of excuse, or a falsehood which, while procuring some advantage, does nobody any harm.

A hurtful lie does an injury to someone.

¹ Summa, 2-2, q. 110, a. I.

² De Mendacio, c. 3,

According to the common Catholic teaching, lying of every kind is intrinsically wrong; so that, inasmuch as we may not do evil that good may come of it, we are never justified in telling a lie, not even if the life of another or the safety of the world depended on it. St Augustine, St Thomas, and other Catholic Doctors and theologians gather this doctrine from the teaching of Holy Scripture which in many places seems to forbid all lying as absolutely as it forbids theft or homicide. Pope Innocent III gives expression to this teaching when he says in the Decretals, “‘ Since Holy Scripture prohibits lying even to save the life of another.”¹ Reason teaches us the same doctrine. For a lie is something inordinate in itself. It is a perversion of the moral order which the law of nature prescribes should be observed between the mind and the expression of it in our intercourse with others, We are endowed with the faculty of making known our thoughts and feelings to others; right order requires that the external expression should agree with the internal thought, that the machinery should be correctly regulated, that there should be no contradiction between the parts of the same agent, as there is when a lie is told. The moral turpitude which there is in such a contradiction between the mind and its external expression is well seen in the vice of hypocrisy. When a man pretends to be other than he is, there is the same perversion of right order that there is in lying. in nature; It is like a monstrosity the parts of one whole do not fit harmoniously together; they are out of gear and offensive to the view. There is, then, a special virtue of veracity which prescribes that when we have to make known our thoughts and feelings we should do it truthfully, or, in other words, we should make the outward expression agree with the thought. This virtue of veracity exists and is of obligation apart from any right to the truth that there may be in others. Veracity is something which we owe to ourselves as well as to our neighbour. It is true indeed that society is very much interested in sincerity and veracity. Social intercourse is very much hindered by lying and the mistrust which lying generates.² But although this is true, yet lying must be avoided primarily because it is unworthy of the dignity of man; it is a perversion of right order; it is intrinsically, in itself, wrong.

Some of the Greek Fathers held a different view from the above, and thought that lying was not wrong under all circumstances, but that it was occasionally allowable, like medicine, on account of inevitable necessity. English moralists have very commonly held a similar opinion, that a lie is only told when what is false is said to one who has a right to the truth. Some modern Catholic theologians have also adopted this opinion, which places the malice of lying in the denial of the truth to one who has a right to it. They do not, however, sufficiently explain the nature of that right, whether it is a strict right of justice, or a right in a vague sense demanded by the good of society, and so due out of legal justice, or charity, or piety, or obedience. Moreover, it is as difficult to determine when that right exists as it is to determine what is a lie according to the common opinion, and the door seems to be opened to promiscuous lying provided that no injury be done to our neighbour. The only lie which the theory acknowledges seems to be the hurtful lie. Nor does it sufficiently answer the arguments on which the common opinion is based.

¹ C. Super eo, De usuris.

² Eph. iv 25.

If it is never lawful to tell a lie, if the lie of necessity cannot be allowed, what means have we of safeguarding a secret ?

Catholic theologians answer this question by propounding their doctrine of mental reservation. Mental reservations are either strictly or widely so called. The former is the restriction of one’s meaning in making an assertion to the proposition as modified by some addition made to it within the mind of the speaker. As if on being asked “ Are you going to town ?” one were to answer “ Yes,” meaning “‘ in imagination.” In wide mental reservations the words used are capable of being understood in different senses, either because they are ambiguous in themselves, or because they have a special sense derived from the circumstances of time, place, or person in which they are spoken. Thus, when a servant says that her master is not in, the words may mean either that he is absent, or that he does not wish to see the visitor. The servant’s real meaning is restricted to one of these senses. In the same way a defendant on his trial in an English court .of justice pleads not guilty—i.e., until the charge be proved. A lawyer or a doctor questioned about professional secrets replies, “ I don’t know ”—i.e., I have no knowledge which I can communicate.

Although strict mental reservations are lies, and therefore sinful, yet wide mental reservations are in common use; they are necessary, and they are not lies. They are necessary because justice and charity require that secrets should be kept, and frequently there is no other way of keeping them. They are not lies because, as we saw above, words take their meaning not only from their grammatical signification, but from the circumstances in which they are used. When a priest is asked about a sin which a penitent has confessed to him, and he answers, ‘‘I never heard of it,” he speaks as a man, not as a confessor who holds the place of God in the tribunal of Penance. All are aware that he is a priest, and to all his words mean, “‘ I never heard of it outside of the confessional.” He never speaks of what he has heard inside the confessional, and nothing can, or should, be gathered about what he has heard there from the words which he uses. Although these wide mental reservations are not lies, yet they must not be employed without just cause, for the good of society requires that we should speak our mind with frankness and sincerity in the sense in which we are understood by our hearers, unless there be a good reason for permitting their self-deception when they take our words in a sense that we do not mean.

Truth requires not only that we should say nothing that we know to be false, but also that we should weigh our statements and not make rash and unconsidered assertions. There are some people whose talk runs babbling along like a stream in a fresh, and with as little meaning. A man with a love for truth will be more sparing of his words, and will weigh them before giving them currency.