Liar? Liar?
Learning to Lie, an article by Po Bronson, offers a singular view of the Dunning-Kruger effect: that of parents believing their children to be honest, when statistics and experiments prove otherwise. Of course parents accept that their children will break things, throw tantrums, and hurt the feelings of others with their shocking bluntness. But when it comes to anything that goes against what we see as morally wrong?
When it comes to lying?
Mr. Bronson mentions parents who were quick to declare that, “My son doesn’t lie” only to amend that to, “Well, I’ve never heard him lie” (or other similar amendments). These statements where quickly proven incorrect when, in Mr. Bronson’s experiments, the children easily lied if presented with a situation where it benefited them. This is, however, an understandable reaction for parents. No one wishes to see those they admire or are proud of make a mistake, especially a purposeful and immoral one. However, is this mindset only feeding children’s temptation to lie? Mr. Bronson thinks so: “Many parenting Websites and books advise parents to just let lies go — they’ll grow out of it. The truth, according to Talwar, is that kids grow into it.” Even simply making the mistake of deeming a child honest, and therefore not keeping an eye out for lies, can fuel this fire.
I myself am not immune to the effects of the Dunning-Kruger effect in relation to this article.
As I read the article, I began imagining how my young self may have behaved in Talwar’s experiments. When, on the first page, the author began listing things most teens lied about, and I found myself thinking, “No, no, nope, not me…” I, of course, prided myself in my honesty. Honesty is something I have always prided myself in. It’s unsurprising, really, that soon after, when they began talking about Talwar’s experiments in earnest, I made the assumption that I would be of the twenty-four percent of kids who didn’t peek, or at least of the five percent who peeked, but was honest about it. When talking to my mother about it later, however, she was disillusioned. This is not to say I was known as a liar as a child, or that it was a problem in our house — in fact, my parent have many stories of when I was shockingly honest in situations where honesty would land me in the proverbial ‘doghouse’. Or, when I would lie only to run up to my parents later, wide-eyed and bawling, to tell them the truth. These moments, though sweet, offer only my typical behavior when punishment was a possibility. The fact of the matter is: I will never know whether I would have lied or not in Talwar’s experiments, which were based only on reward, and I never will. Based on Talwar’s statistics, I would most likely have lied. It’s a hard pill for me to swallow, personally I would much prefer the marshmallow test, though, if I allow myself to imagine what I would have done, I’d most likely have eaten the proffered sweet instantaneously, and with no regrets.
