We lie constantly, not just to others but to ourselves. Shankar Vedantam's latest book explores how those "polite fictions" happen, and how they can help us, even in the most extreme forms. We may call it tact or politeness when we tell a co-worker or relative, "No, you're not bothering me" or exchange the expected "Such a nice time - must do it again" at the end of a social event that was more chore than joy, because those lies keep society running. I laughed at the passages where Vedantam translated a couple's morning chat and a coach's assessment of his team (particularly the latter as a Philly sports fan) - there are times when we just don't want to know the truth.
Our delusions also benefit us. More optimistic people tend to have better outcomes when seriously ill, and religious people report higher levels of contentment. Vedantam admits that it's hard to control for variables in these cases, particularly with religion which tracks to other protective factors such as community support. As for the patients, I wonder if that optimism allows them endure treatments or leaves them with the energy to take more affirmative steps towards treatment.
The middle section of the book focuses on a man swindled by the Church of Love, one of many who didn't feel cheated. Donald Lowry set up the CoL (as he called it) to take money from lonely men. He sent out thousands of letters ostensibly from women living in a religious retreat. The men sent "offerings" and when the Postal Inspectors arrested Lowry and he was put on trial, many of his victims protested. Even if the women they'd written to didn't exist, they'd helped them. With vague letters derived from surveys of the men's likes and dislikes, they created relationships (perhaps not unlike those we have with friends we know only through social media) which helped these lonely men feel whole. The victim Vedantam interviewed doesn't see himself as a victim, and I agree. The relationship he had, although not real, gave him solace when he needed it.
