The Joy of Telling Little White Lies

Have you ever pretended not to know who a celeb is when asked a question like “Oh, you know Nicole Kidman?” It’s not your fault though, you grew up without a telly. Wales only got Freeview in 2012 and your parents raised you to never watch anything with an Australian in.

Or one step further, have you ever pretended to be someone else at a chicken shop counter at 2AM? Maybe you moved here from Sweden when you were five and adopted a Welsh accent after learning English from Gavin and Stacey reruns. Perhaps your aunt is Jacqueline Wilson. Also, you possibly could have made the Youth Olympics badminton team when you were a pre-teen – prove that I didn’t!

All of the above are, to put it how your mam might, stupid lies. I prefer to call them cheeky fibs. Lying implies a sense of harm is going to be enacted by your deviousness, but a silly fib is nothing more than a pretence designed solely to make yourself laugh. Or rather, that’s how I’ve always seen it. The question that’s left most unanswered by this activity is not whether your dad actually appeared on Holby City once, but why does fibbing bring so much joy? At which point does it stop being fun and mean you’re a pathological liar? And did I ever tell you about the time Colin Firth slapped my bum in Greggs?

Thankfully, I am not alone in this practice of lying for funnies. TikTok constantly serves up videos of people telling porkies to their partners or explaining how fibbing is just a part of their day to day. These videos often go viral, with those in the comments enthusing that they also adore playing with the truth. As user @theboynextdoor15 puts it: “I literally lie about the smallest things LIKE WHAT HARM DOES IT CAUSE IF SOMEONE THINKS I ATE SQUID SOUP INSTEAD OF PIZZA?” 

But Embark Behavioral Health CCO Rob Gent tells me that regardless of if we see our lies as harmless, there will always be a negative result from fictionalising our lives. “No matter the situation, lying has consequences; potentially resulting in a lack of trust in others. Unfortunately, lies have been used to superficially strengthen relationships, spare sour feelings, and minimise conflict, according to research.”

“This is not always applicable, especially when regarding familial lies,” he adds. “The consequences of lying can easily evolve into much bigger issues when the weight and power of a lie grow in their impact on relational trust.”

For many of the people I interviewed, however, the lying takes place when interacting with strangers and most of the time, whilst also being inebriated. Phoebe, a 29-year-old stage manager, recalls using lying to her advantage: “Someone told me I looked like Sophie Ellis-Bextor at Secret Garden Party and I said I was and pretended to be her for 15 minutes for a free balloon. I even sang a little and took a selfie with someone, making them promise not to post it.”

As Gent briefly mentioned, lies can be used to benefit the liar. In Phoebe’s case, there were two gains from pretending to be a 2000s icon: A free hit of laughing gas and the pleasure of getting away with it. Even without the balloon, the story itself will be one that Phoebe can tell over and over again to get laughs. That, in itself, is worth every second of the 15 minutes pretending to be Ellis-Bextor – at least to me!

Polly, a 35-year-old art assistant, tells me how her ex-partner thinks she can speak fluent French. This isn’t a throwaway lie either, as the pair dated for nine years and still remain close friends, with him continuing to believe she is bilingual. Understandably, it being too late for a big reveal, Polly asked to keep her name anonymous in this article.

For Dr. Jeannelle Perkins-Muhammad, a licenced marriage and family therapist, the occasional white lie is “harmless if there is no impact to another person or the community”. An ongoing falsehood, however, is where we need to start to worry – especially when it comes to repeat fibbers like myself or a years-long deception like Polly. 

“Pathological lying is compulsive. Individuals living with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), and Antisocial Personality Disorder (APD) usually find that pathological lying is a foundational symptom,” she explains. “Lies that stem from those with personality disorders often seek to manipulate or be deceptive for personal gain. These individuals truly feel elation and satisfaction when they get away with being dishonest or manipulating.”

While I’m not about to label myself, my mates or strangers on the internet with personality disorders, the second half of what Perkins-Muhammad gets a bit close for comfort. Does it count if the “personal gain” is having a big laugh with your mates? What’s wrong with feeling elation and satisfaction from a fib that doesn’t harm anyone?

What it boils down to for us cheeky little blaggers is that somewhere along the way, we’ve decided that conning someone into believing a lie is hilarious. And why do we find it funny? There are multiple reasons, according to Gent: “The humour that individually resonates with you might be the product of a certain geographical area, internet niche or special interest. Humour is a nurture-over-nature developed trait, meaning who we grew up with and what we surround ourselves with impacts our sense of humour over time and especially in the early formative years of life.”

So in short, if your family, your friends and the media you consume sees yanking someone’s chain as something to laugh at, it’s likely you will, too. Which makes perfect sense, as my dad won the world lying competition on behalf of Wales in 1992. 

@GlNATONIC