Isn't this the plot of Kimagure Orange Road?
Boy meets girl.
Bernard is having a casual affair with Ethel, who is married. His girlfriend, Zjamel, asks him whether he's having an affair. He doesn't want to lie, but he doesn't want to upset her either. He decides that avoiding the latter is better than avoiding the former, and thus denies the affair.
Zjamel is happy and the affair ends not long afterwards.
Did Bernard do the right thing?
I suppose this is getting into the world of times when it's better to lie. In other words, we tend to think lying is a bad thing until confronted by a situation where telling the truth would be cause distress to others. Bernard's lie makes Zjamel feel better, and since happiness is the highest good, and lying makes you feel good, then we should lie all the time.
All right, perhaps that wasn't such a good idea. There are occasions when, I think, a lie is justified, just as there are many occasions when it's going to make things worse. Politicians are often good at the latter, which they do because they would've believed that there was a utilitarian reason for lying (short term thinking) before the truth is finally squeezed out of them and their duplicity, long known, becomes manifest.
I've talked to my classes here about this issue. Their usual response is that we should always tell the truth until they're given a few instances where the truth might be the last thing you want to tell. Of course, they're only telling me that they should tell the truth because they think that's what I want to hear. (This is a common experience for foreigners in China when a simple, honest "I don't know" would be preferable.) Even when they know that I know the truth, they'll persist in lying to me.
I think all the schools I've been at have lied to us, or failed to tell us the whole truth, as if we're a bunch of idiots. That sort of lying shows contempt for the person being lied to and the liar earns contempt from that person in return.
Bernard is having a casual affair with Ethel, who is married. His girlfriend, Zjamel, asks him whether he's having an affair. He doesn't want to lie, but he doesn't want to upset her either. He decides that avoiding the latter is better than avoiding the former, and thus denies the affair.
Zjamel is happy and the affair ends not long afterwards.
Did Bernard do the right thing?
I suppose this is getting into the world of times when it's better to lie. In other words, we tend to think lying is a bad thing until confronted by a situation where telling the truth would be cause distress to others. Bernard's lie makes Zjamel feel better, and since happiness is the highest good, and lying makes you feel good, then we should lie all the time.
Girl: Does my bum look big in this?
Boy [lying]: Yes.
Girl: Bastard!
All right, perhaps that wasn't such a good idea. There are occasions when, I think, a lie is justified, just as there are many occasions when it's going to make things worse. Politicians are often good at the latter, which they do because they would've believed that there was a utilitarian reason for lying (short term thinking) before the truth is finally squeezed out of them and their duplicity, long known, becomes manifest.
I've talked to my classes here about this issue. Their usual response is that we should always tell the truth until they're given a few instances where the truth might be the last thing you want to tell. Of course, they're only telling me that they should tell the truth because they think that's what I want to hear. (This is a common experience for foreigners in China when a simple, honest "I don't know" would be preferable.) Even when they know that I know the truth, they'll persist in lying to me.
I think all the schools I've been at have lied to us, or failed to tell us the whole truth, as if we're a bunch of idiots. That sort of lying shows contempt for the person being lied to and the liar earns contempt from that person in return.
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