Mr. O’Brien and I seem to have a knack for giving each other post ideas–probably because we tend to be interested in the same things (I’m an actor/writer too). This time I was reading his comments on the James O’Keefe debate–or rather, the broader debate among Catholics about the ethics of lying. This post is not a disagreement with his (I share his dismay at the cavalier attitude some Catholics take towards Church teaching), but an exploration of some related questions.

The same afternoon I read Mr. O’Brien’s post I was approached by a fellow Catholic on this very problem: lying/acting in the context of O’Keefe’s Planned Parenthood reporting. I gave an answer with which I was not entirely satisfied; so that evening I brought the question up with my father, and got another not-quite-satisfying answer. In the interests of the debate, here are both answers. (Kudos to anyone who can figure out which was mine and which was my father’s!)

First, let’s look at some definitions.

 

Catechism 2482-5. “‘A lie consists in speaking a falsehood with the intention of deceiving.’ [St. Augustine, De mendacio 4,5:PL 40:491] . . . To lie is to speak or act against the truth in order to lead someone into error. . . . [A] lie offends against the fundamental relation of man and of his word to the Lord. The gravity of a lie is measured against the nature of the truth it deforms, the circumstances, the intentions of the one who lies, and the harm suffered by its victims. If a lie in itself only constitutes a venial sin, it becomes mortal when it does grave injury to the virtues of justice and charity. By its very nature, lying is to be condemned.”

Summa Q.110. “[I]f these three things concur, namely, falsehood of what is said, the will to tell a falsehood, and finally the intention to deceive, then there is falsehood–materially, since what is said is false, formally, on account of the will to tell an untruth, and effectively, on account of the will to impart a falsehood. However, the essential notion of a lie is taken from formal falsehood, from the fact namely, that a person intends to say what is false; wherefore also the word mendacium [lie] is derived from its being in opposition to the mind. . . . Now a lie is evil in respect of its genus, since it is an action bearing on undue matter. For as words are naturally signs of intellectual acts, it is unnatural and undue for anyone to signify by words something that is not in his mind. Hence the Philosopher [Aristotle] says (Ethic. iv, 7) that ‘lying is in itself evil and to be shunned, while truthfulness is good and worthy of praise.’ Therefore every lie is a sin, as also Augustine declares (Contra Mend. i).”

 

Both texts, caveats included, essentially boil down to this: “Lying is intentionally uttering a falsehood with the intent to deceive. Lying is always wrong.”

Given these texts, here are two possible defenses of “acting a lie.”

 

Defense 1. “Lying is intentionally uttering a falsehood with the intent to deceive.” But what is a falsehood? St. Thomas and the Catechism seem to agree (read further in the above links) that the intent to deceive is only sinful when the person(s) being deceived deserve the truth. (Thus, I can deceive or mislead the Nazis hunting for Jews, etc., though I cannot lie to them.) Intentional false statements, on the other hand, are always sinful. However, most moralists agree that “intentional false statements” do not include statements such as those routinely made by actors. (The partial defense that O’Brien gave of O’Keefe at the Chesterton Conference was based on this fact.) The key question is: Why are actors traditionally considered not to be making “intentional false statements”?

If you say that actors are not liars because everyone knows they’re acting, then O’Keefe’s in trouble. But look carefully again at what Aquinas says in Article 3 of the Question: “Now a lie is evil . . . [because it] bear[s] on undue matter. For . . . it is unnatural and undue for anyone to signify by words something that is not in his mind.” When one acts, one “takes up” the mind of the person one is portraying; their mind is in your mind. The words are not lies, not because everyone knows you are acting (if a five-year-old child walks into the theater, and thinks it’s for real, you haven’t lied to him) but because you are conveying to your audience not specific truths (“There is a murderer in that closet!”) but general truths (“This character is the sort of man who would say, under these circumstances, ‘There is a murderer in that closet!'”) Now if acting is not lying; and if it is permissible to deceive some persons (for example, as Aquinas says, in war); then it may be permissible to deceive persons through acting; i.e., through portraying a personality other than one’s own. Although the statements made in the course of such a portrayal are untrue in a narrow sense (not literal–but neither is all the Bible!) they are not false in the broader sense (they fit what this character would say).

Defense 2. Who has a right to the truth? The above commentary is mere hair-splitting. If it required brains that subtle to deceive the Nazis, then your average joe would really be up a creek. There is nothing wrong with telling untruths to persons who have no right to the truth, just as there is nothing wrong with killing in self defense. Sure, it’s better to avoid untruths and killing as long as you can; but neither prohibition is absolute.

Now Aquinas is a smart guy, but even Aquinas is not always right. (He got a relatively important thing like the Immaculate Conception wrong, so let’s not be surprised if he occasionally is a bit off base on something else.) The Catechism is another matter. It is authoritative, and it cannot be ignored. However, the Catechism is primarily a pastoral document, intended as a guide to people’s daily behavior. Saying something such as “Lying is telling an untruth to someone who has a right to know the truth” (as the authors of an earlier canceled edition of the Catechism did), would open the gates for a vast number of people to tell untruths when they had no business doing so. (We all know how human nature works. “She had no right to know where I was last night; and she wouldn’t take silence for an answer!”) The canceled edition of the Catechism is not less likely to be inerrant than the current one; the fact that it was canceled merely suggests that it was considered to be possibly misleading to members of the faithful.

 

As I say, I find neither of these solutions completely satisfying; and of course, neither one is an exoneration of O’Keefe. We can’t read his conscience; but he himself has said that he thinks the end (uncovering the truth) justifies the means (lying)–which is certainly bad theology and ethics. Nor does either of these defenses excuse O’Keefe from the other scandals that he’s been involved with. But maybe, just maybe, one of them could explain how good people can . . . spy? equivocate? act?; etc., etc.

Thoughts?