Here’s Why Even People Who Hate You Will Tell You the Truth

Lies can be hidden in truth — learn this skill to stay safe.

Photo by Ian Espinosa on Unsplash

“Sincerity is not a test of truth. It is possible to be completely sincere and completely wrong.”

— Jim Rohn

Most people think they can determine the difference between truth and lies.

But every day, it seems to get more and more difficult.

What is true? What is not true?

Is there a grey area at all? Can something be both false and true?

I just re-watched a movie that I helped to produce, and some of the scenes reminded me of the great and persistent struggle between lies and the truth.

. . .

Forty Nights and the Great Temptations

“Half a truth is often a great lie.”

— Benjamin Franklin

The movie Forty Nights provides a view of the life of Jesus as he is tempted three times by the devil. The movie takes a few lines of text and turns it into an impressive feature-length film. My friend DJ Perry did an awesome job writing and also playing the main character.

The best part of the movie, however, are the dialogues between the devil as an old man (played by the late Reince Howard) and Jesus.

As I watched, I realized nearly everything that the devil said was true ‒ nearly everything.

Hidden within the old man’s message, however, was one sentence that was a lie.

And it hit me. The words and performance were so interesting, compelling, and powerful because the antagonist spoke the truth.

But hidden within the truth was a single, simple lie. The lie became even more dangerous when it was surrounded by the truth.

It is similar to the turn on the old proverb: it may be hard to find a needle in a haystack, but it is harder to find a needle in a pile of needles.

Don’t fall prey to those who tell the truth to deceive.

. . .

Truth Builds Trust, But Be Careful

“A half-truth is even more dangerous than a lie. A lie, you can detect at some stage, but half a truth is sure to mislead you for long.”— Anurag Shourie

I once made the mistake of falling prey to this type of artifice.

An acquaintance once told me something about myself that I instinctively knew was true. This truth disarmed me. I inherently trusted this person more than I should have. I told him something in confidence that I believed he would keep private.

He told me the truth one time, so I assumed that he was honest all of the time.

Later, after much pain and some messy cleanup, I discovered that he was the source of the problem.

As I reflected on what caused the entire ordeal, there was one action that should have tipped me off to not place as much trust into this person.

But I ignored the sign, because the trust had been built.

The falsehood was concealed by the truth.

For my own purposes, I labeled this concept of concealing a kernel of a lie in a basket of truth. I wanted to catch myself before I believed something that was not accurate — especially when the inaccuracy was surrounded by the truth.

I call this the 99–1 rule: even if 99% of something is true, it does not mean the last 1% is as well. The percentages are arbitrary, but also serve as a reminder. Just a sliver of falsehood can turn truth into deception.

• I use the 99–1 rule in my law practice. If an opposing attorney or party tells me the truth 99% of the time, I do not assume that the last 1% will be true. It may be accurate — but it might not be.

• I use the 99–1 rule when making investments. I listen carefully for the hidden 1% that transforms a great opportunity into a horrible investment.

• I use the 99–1 rule whenever I make a purchase or hire someone. It is useful to think about the entire pitch rather than just certain parts.

I use the 99–1 rule in any interaction where I have to make a judgment call about whether someone is telling me the truth. In short, the 99–1 rule allows me to focus on the entire message, instead of only the parts that I agree with initially.

Do not be disarmed when people tell you the truth.

Even people who do not like you will tell you the truth ‒ some of the time. The 99–1 rule is real.

. . .

Learn the one lesson that has changed my life more than any other.