A CEO who had just come to the U.S. made a comment,
“Everything is big in the U.S.”
I nodded,
“American’s physiques, houses and the amount of food they consume are all big.”
He looked away, and added,
“Well, those are big for sure, but I mean, some Americans tell barefaced humongous lies, don’t you see? Why do they lie when they should know that others will become suspicious?”
In 2008, Bernie Madoff was taken down by FBI for his massive Ponzi scheme that spanned decades. Lance Armstrong, who survived cancer and had seven titles of Tour de France, was one of the most celebrated heroes in the U.S. But that ended in disgrace when the United States Anti-Doping Agency charged him with running a massive doping ring in 2012. He lost all the Tour de France titles. These two lies, that fooled Americans and the world for so long, shook the American society.
Believe it or not, honesty is one of the most cherished values in the U.S.
The first President George Washington cut down his father’s tree, but told the truth to his father. This anecdote is often used to illustrate the importance of honesty, and also how trustworthy George Washington was. Of course, many Japanese think it’s kind of silly since he shouldn’t have done it in the first place. But Americans love honest people so much, that they’re more than happy to ignore young George Washington’s lack of concern for potential consequences.
So, it is a wonder why so many Americans tell whopping lies.
My family had an incident. When we returned to our car after watching a professional soccer game, our car was gone. It turned out that it was towed by the police. All the parking spaces we tried were full, so we parked near a fast food restaurant, across from a Dunkin Donuts. We didn’t know, but this downtown parking was considered private parking.
In the heavy rain that had just started to fall, my husband went through an iffy part of town and arrived at the lot of the towing company. He heard a strange noise when he started the car, but the clerk and his manager both said,
“I don’t hear anything.”
The noise got louder and louder as we drove home. Next day our mechanics said,
“The towing truck must’ve pulled the car from behind, and damaged the pipes that connect with the muffler. There’s no other way to inflict such damage.”
My husband and I called the towing company for four weeks. Since we didn’t get anywhere, we ended up suing them. This was our first lawsuit. Soon after the towing company was notified about the lawsuit, they came and fixed the car. We took it back to our mechanic to confirm it was fixed properly. However, he informed us that,
“They used an iron pipe. It’ll rot and fall soon.”
So, we met a towing company’s owner in court. I was curious how things work in the U.S. justice system.
The owner testified,
“There was a curb stone, so we put a board on it, and pulled the car from the front. Our work couldn’t have damaged the car.”
The judge asked,
“Were you there?”
“Yes, I was.”
Of course, we knew this was a lie. All the scratch marks on the bumpers said otherwise. However, we couldn’t produce a live witness, and couldn’t prove his testimony was a fib.
We had our car checked up right before this incident at the Honda dealership, and the report said our car was fine in every category. But the judge said,
“It’s a hearsay.”
Our mechanics’ letter explaining the damage was also rejected as “hearsay.”
So we ended up with no monetary compensation. As we went out the court, a stranger approached and said,
“I’ve seen many cases like this. They won by telling a lie convincingly.”
Even in a society where honesty is highly valued, when money and fame are involved, “might makes right.” And the logic that “a lie is not a lie until it’s proven to be a lie” seems to replace a sense of justice. Justice won’t be served if a sense of morality is missing.
Some of my friends said,
“The court and the police and the towing company are in it together. You fell into the trap they’d set up.”
But of course, this is a hearsay.
Our mechanic recommended that we take it to the higher court. But the fact that we had no witnesses would remain the same. We have our family and work to tend to. In the end, this is not our priority. So, the owner will probably keep lying until somehow he gets caught.
In some cases, small lies snowball into big lies and yet elude suspicions and exposure for many years. I suspect that for both Madoff and Armstrong, lying became part of their daily routines, and they may have even lost awareness that they were actually lying.
Tell a lie, you’re becoming a thief. Every time I heard this as a child, I said to myself,
“I understand how it begins, but how does it end?”
Once you become a thief, and you are rewarded with money and fame, you can almost never go back to your innocent self.