This is Timmy.
Timmy is three years old, and he told his first lie. This is just the beginning, since by the time he turns four, Timmy will be lying more often. This isn’t his fault, though. Lying for the first time is considered a cognitive milestone.
Timmy and most three-year-olds have reached the psychological point where they understand that other human beings have unique mental states (this is what psychologists call theory of mind). They also have cognitive skills that enable them to plan, organize, and carry out tasks (this is called executive function). Those are impressive feats for a child who’s been alive the same amount of time as the “Macarena” craze.
Psychologists believe that lies are a sign of intelligence and cognitive development. They are also kind of cute when they come out of a three-year-old’s mouth.
Lying unlocks a Pandora’s box for Timmy. He’ll use it to avoid punishments (“I swear the vase was broken when I got into this room! Actually, the cat did it!”) or to gain some form of reward (“I kind of brushed my teeth. Well, I looked at the toothbrush, so I guess that counts”). Given enough time, Timmy will tell himself fantastical stories. He’ll eventually learn to tell white lies to avoid hurting other people’s feelings (“That dress looks great on you, grandma!”). As the kid grows up, though, lying isn’t as benign, and it’s definitely not as cute.
As we age, lying becomes more sophisticated. By the time Timmy becomes an adult, he lies because he has specific goals, such as protecting a relationship, maintaining a reputation, or avoiding consequences. When lies backfire during adulthood, they do so in catastrophic proportions. One of our most important values is trust in each other, but while trust is slow to build, you can break it with one single lie. Think about how the main character from The Truman Show must have felt when he realized everything in his life was carefully orchestrated by a production company.
Lying also creates mental stress. Since you have to keep track of all the lying, you never get to be yourself. Not to mention all the new lies you must create to maintain the ones you’ve told before.
Eventually, Timmy will realize that telling the truth is harder than faking brushing his teeth, but ultimately less exhausting than remembering 72 lies about what the cat did. If he keeps lying, life gets complicated. He’ll have to remember what he told Jessica at the bar, what he told his boss at work, and what he told his mom about why he’s “still thinking about grad school.” He’ll need a spreadsheet just to keep it all straight. Worse, he’ll never know if people actually like him or just the character he’s playing.
Telling the truth is like wearing tight jeans you bought last year after a weird burst of optimism. It pinches a little. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s real. And once you break them in, you can actually breathe. When Timmy starts telling the truth, good things happen. People trust him. Friends stick around. Girlfriends move in instead of packing up and “finding themselves” in Costa Rica.
When you tell the truth, you signal to the other person, “This is who I am”. They can either accept you or reject you, but you’ve essentially put them in a position where they have to pick one or the other. Lying is like trying to win a boxing match wearing a papier-mâché helmet — it looks cool for five seconds and then you’re unconscious. You never give the other person a chance to choose you for who you are. That’s the case because you’re not being you, you’re just playing a character you think is you. This is something incredibly insecure people do.
But truth alone isn’t enough. Timmy also has to own his actions. That means no blaming the cat, the economy, Mercury retrograde, or his ex-girlfriend’s “crazy energy.” It means standing there, red-faced, and saying, “Yeah, I did that,” without ducking for cover. When you combine honesty with owning your actions, you act with integrity. When you tell the truth and take responsibility, something rare happens: people actually respect you.
Growing up isn’t about paying taxes or using coasters. It’s about letting go of the survival tactics that made sense when you were three and realizing that nobody is coming to clean up after your messes anymore. If Timmy learns that, he’s got a shot at being a decent human being. And if not… well, there’s always Costa Rica.
Sources
- Daring Greatly by Brene Brown
- “Can You Really Tell if a Kid Is Lying?” – TED Talk by Kang Lee
- Lee, K., Talwar, V. (2002). Children’s Lying Behavior: Developmental Trends and the Influence of Socio-Cognitive Factors.