A friend of mine just happened to snap my mind out of its idleness sometime this day when he said – in a conversation within the four corners of our university’s student publication office – there are only 2 honest people in the world: children and those who are drunk.
Without so much as a complicated reason, there seems to be a certain truth to this theory with children. They – being untainted as they are sheltered mostly by parents, as if to preserve the inherent goodness of man – are usually inclined to tell the truth, greatly being won over by a certain Jiminy cricket (the fabled embodiment of one’s conscience).
The drunk, on the other hand, seem to lose their consciousness of their actions by the dazed spell casted upon them after a couple of swigs of sinful liquor. I guess one could not really be held accountable for their actions if they themselves have no idea what they just have done or said. It is as if in a drunken state, one is completely freed of the reigns by logical reasoning which begs another question which underlies the whole point of this essay: How does a child and one whom have grown out of the sheltered phase (ages could vary) perceive a lie?
It seems that a child tells the truth because he has been taught that to lie is not a good thing. But an adult or grown up person has learned that there is a good and logical lie. I guess this is where the concept of white lie stems. Sometimes it can be helped that we are given a reason to alter the truth, if not completely deviate from it. But it is a lie nonetheless. Given this, should it just be that the question asked is when is a lie good than is it bad?