BY TOM ODHIAMBO
By the time you read this essay you will be just about 80 days away from voting in the national General Election. You will almost be about to tick the ballot in favour of or against your choice of the President, Governor, Member of Parliament, Senator, Woman Representative, or Member of the Constituent Assembly.
You will most likely perform this civic duty honestly and patriotically. But you might just have been ‘convinced’ to vote for any one of those individuals by a set of calculated lies and schemes.
Lies, there is no doubt, make up a large percentage of the debates and campaign proposals by politicians. Aspirant politicians will ‘openly’ lie; it’s part of the game. They will offer the electorate juicy promises, most of which are plain untruths and unachievable. They will speak of eradicating poverty, obliterating illiteracy, curing all and sundry of all diseases that have ever afflicted humanity, feeding all living voters into obesity, burying the dead ones in dignified style, building bridges to link one home to the next, tarmac roads that have never been dug up, install electricity in manyattas; the politicians will lie, lie and lie till the voters line up to elect them into public office.
Donald Trump, the supposed leader of the free world, has consistently shown, since before joining elective politics, that one can get away with a fat lie, even in a country where fact-check is not just a hobby but an industry. He has given the world a new topic for discussion by suggesting that there are alternative facts. This is why Robert Feldman’s book, Liar: The Truth about Lying (2009) is worth reading. I suspected, whilst reading it, that Feldman himself was probably leading me on with some of his anecdotes but I willingly trusted him.
But why is lying so universal? Why do people accept to be told lies instead of truth? Or why do people let themselves be deceived without complaining about it? For instance, why is it that when politicians, economists and policymakers make claims such as “the economy grew by five percent last year”; “several thousands of kilometers of roads have been built in the past three years”; or “no child will miss school because of lack of fees”, which can’t be verified, ordinary citizens repeat them as if they are facts. Mwananchi, who should have benefitted from these assumed indicators of development but often doesn’t, justifies these ‘stretched truths’ by claiming that those who make the claims know better. Sounds convoluted?
Yes, the convolution that political, economic or financial language has adopted these days is deliberate. Liars probably understand best the psychology of those they lie to. Lies work because they make our lives manageable. We tell fibs all the time. We sometimes lie because we don’t want to hurt family, friends or colleagues. “I am five minutes away”, is a statement you’ll hear someone who is late for a meeting make. “I am caught in the traffic jam on Mombasa road”, is a Nairobi cliché for lateness. Those to whom we lie accept the fibs because they too tell such lies and don’t want to unnecessarily injure relationships.
Lying is interwoven into our daily lives. Media offers statistics they can’t back up to sell news. Rulers garnish their economic growth figures to justify being in power. Shops offer ridiculous ‘discounts’, such as a 100th of a cent, to lure people to buy. Students collaborate with teachers to cheat in exams all the time, all over the world. We tell ourselves lies, such as that we are doing fine economically or we will get a better job tomorrow, to keep us going for another day. Haven’t you ever boarded a Matatu and found it ‘nearly full’ when the supposed fellow passengers are simply ‘fillers?’ Spies lie for a living. Sex workers lie to their clients most of the time, if you allow the pun. Public relations officers are generally sworn truth stretchers.
But why do we tell children not to lie when we, adults, lie to them? We discourage children to lie because they would most likely make lying into a habit, which later in life would become morally unacceptable and illegal. We accept children’s lies because they are still young, yet we get offended when they continue to lie when they reach puberty. Why? Is it because when the youth lie they challenge the moral authority of ‘lying’ adults? Or is it because lying is actually reprehensible?
Well, in Liar, Feldman offers several reasons why people lie all the time. He shows that in everyday social interactions, lying oils relationships and keeps occasions hospitable. For instance, standards of social conduct will judge one to be rude if she were too ‘truthfully’ tell a host that the food that had just been served was bland! In such a case, politeness (a virtue) demands that one lies about the meal being delectable. But he also notes that lying is part of our psychological make-up. In other words, we are wired to stretch the truth, because human beings are generally self-serving.
So, in a world of fake news, alternative facts and competing truths – yes, there are individuals who still deny that HIV causes AIDS or that global warming is happening – one needs to be very alert when they lie or when they encounter what they suspect to be lies. Lying may get you a job or a spouse, but maintaining the lie forever is the task. This is why many Kenyan businesses, built on the quicksand of tenderpreneurship and tax evasion are today leaning badly financially. Lying is why some aspiring politicians with fake academic qualifications won’t be elected this August. Embellishing one’s achievements when facts on the ground don’t corroborate one’s claims will haunt a number of individuals keen to be reelected to public office.
But, again, one can retort: if Donald Trump has been weathering the storm caused by his deceptions, why can’t I? Of course Trump has a team of dedicated manufacturers of alternative facts and communication firefighters. He is also an old hand at the business of doing business. A good businessman knows when to stretch his credits and debits, and keep the venture alive. Most of us don’t have the luxury that individuals such as Trump enjoy. Therefore, better heed the Frenchman, Jacques Abbadie’s caution: One can fool some men, or fool all men in some places and times, but one cannot fool all men in all places and ages.
The writer teaches literature at the University of Nairobi.
