08 July 1999, 793 words
It is unnatural to lie. This no doubt seems an amazing claim, especially in the midst of an election campaign. But, physiologically at least, it is a simple fact. Whenever we lie, even about the most trivial of things, we place our bodies under stress: our pulse quickens, our palms secrete extra moisture, our hormonal balances alter and our brainwaves become jagged.
This may be because human beings are, above all else, social creatures. Our social sense supersedes even our reason, for it was the ability to communicate quickly and clearly which allowed us to dominate creatures far more physically powerful than us. So, although it might seem that lying is prevalent, in fact we generally deal with one another on a basis of trust. This is probably why most of us are so gullible. I, for one, readily believe anything people tell me, especially when people are female in a halter top and fitted jeans.
But, because writing is my business and my passion, I am very good at detecting lies in written prose. It is a necessary skill, because a lot of writing is devoted to convincing readers that certain doubtful, or even completely false, propositions are true. And many of the persons who write such prose have absolutely no compunction about lying blatantly in order to "prove" their points. Unless you know all the facts yourself, there is usually no way to know who is lying when confronted with contradictory arguments. So I have trained myself to look for subtler signs that tell me whether a writer is trustworthy or not.
Most of these signs are connected to what is called "style". The classic manual Elements of Style says, "A careful and honest writer does not need to worry about style...his style will emerge because he himself will emerge..." In prose, I have found that fluidity, precision and simplicity are generally signs of a sincere mind. Fluidity is hard to define, but easy to identify for any experienced reader. Keith Smith's writing is a perfect example of fluid prose. Simplicity is a relative term, for it is defined in relation to the ideas being expressed. As a general rule, however, all non-technical topics can be dealt with in a clear and precise manner. Denis Solomon's columns reflect this.
My reasoning is that anyone who writes in a pompous manner, or who uses obscure and technical words unnecessarily, is attempting to impress and will therefore readily deceive in order to maintain false status. Similarly, a stiff prose style usually reflects a narrow sort of mind, which is often dishonest. You can find good (which is to say, bad) examples of stiff writing in the prose of Guardian editor Lennox Grant and Sunday Express columnist Kamal Persad.
A key characteristic of dishonest writers is hyperbole. Thus, Rajnie Ramlakhan writes of "the atrocities of the 30-year African-led government", as though the PNM had murdered hordes of Hindus during their reign. Her twin sister, Pearl Eintou Springer, does not "make any apology for the link between the history of struggle here and in South Africa...War is war."
Hyperbole also expresses itself in the use of trite language. So-called political scientist Hamid Ghany - I say "so-called" or else I'd be lying myself - writing on capital punishment flings around phrases about abolitionists fighting "tooth and nail", "vicious and cruel criminals", and "the evil in their hearts". Triteness always indicates lazy thinking, which correlates with ignorance, hence dishonesty.
Another key element a reader must look for is a lack of logic. Dishonest writers always contradict themselves. That is why Devant Parsuram Maharaj so frequently ties himself up, which is to be expected from someone with a name like that. Easy example: writing about the visit of evangelist Benny Hinn, Devant accuses the media of not investigating Hinn, citing as proof a letter published in the Guardian. He then accused the media of focusing on Hindus who falsely claimed to be healed, citing as proof a report about a man who went to hospital after being healed.
All I can say is - Duh. By contrast, coherent argument and what I can best describe as "reasonableness of tone" are usually reliable indicators of sincerity. Express columnists Donna Yawching and Indira Maharaj are good (that is to say, good) examples of this.
Now you may be worrying that these hints might help dishonest writers to conceal their dishonesty. Fear not. The way we use language is far too intimately bound up with our characters for that to happen. No matter how hard they try, such writers will always commit one or more of the sins I have outlined. Thus, once you remain alert, you shall always know them for what they are.
Copyright ©1999 Kevin Baldeosingh