In the field of psychology, the
word denial refers to a defense
mechanism, an “unconscious” tool to protect the psychological integrity of an
individual and help him function in the world.
By contrast, the goal of deceit or
dishonesty is a conscious attempt to manipulate another person and/or
the
environment for some nefarious purpose(s), major or minor, and undermines the
integrity of personal and social relationships. Like a building constructed
with faulty cement, a relationship built on deceit may crumble at any moment.
(One of the reasons we adore and
enjoy very young children and our pets, cats and dogs, is their guilelessness.
Although they can manipulate us, they aren’t capable of deceiving us.)
In the situation of denial, reality
is hidden from the denier himself. If denial is too extreme, he may fail to
grapple with reality and suffer dire consequences, but he doesn’t intend to
harm or manipulate other people.
We can deny as well as deceive
ourselves. An example of self-deception occurs when I promise myself I’ll eat
one-half but instead, I devour an entire chocolate bar. From past experience, I
know I have an addiction to sweets. To indulge in a morsel tests my
self-control and invites trouble.
(People with addictive problems often play this game with themselves,
whether the addiction involves an appetite or an action (behavior).
In contrast with denial, lying is
conscious. The person responsible knows he’s spinning a web. Dishonesty is an interpersonal matter
that undermines a relationship and induces angry feelings; the deceived person
feels duped, foolish, gullible, and may doubt himself as well as the dishonest
person.
What underlies dishonesty? Why
can’t the person be straight with us?
We learn to lie early in our lives.
Our parental figures set the stage. A child naturally tests the limits and
learns about boundaries and fairness from his caretakers. If they let him get
away with lying, he will continue the habit.
Deceit in the context of a
psychotherapeutic relationship is a conundrum. A client invests time and money
while sabotaging his efforts and squandering his resources. Before a genuine
intra-psychic journey begins, the wall of deceit must be broached.
Most psychotherapists shy away from
confronting a patient over the deceptions perpetrated in therapy; we have to
reach beyond the common tools of acceptance and understanding. Like a dog
trained to detect bedbugs, in spite of the distasteful task, a psychotherapist
has to root out deceit. We have to
challenge the client, risking anger, rage, and abandonment. But if the client
succeeds in manipulating, we fail to accomplish the major task and the pattern
of dishonesty is reinforced.
An example is Ms. M. who lived on
disability payments. After a few years, she confessed she had a part-time job.
Dishonesty undermined our relationship; her fear that I would discover her
secret exacerbated her paranoia. (When at last she told me, I complimented her
on her courage to tell the truth, but she didn’t return for treatment.)
(As black is the absence of light,
deceit is the absence of courage to be honest.)
Although he had a job and could
afford treatment, Mr. Y. tried to get out of paying for his sessions. When I
set firm limits, he acted hurt, insulted, wounded, as if I had committed a
crime against him. If I had failed
to take a hard stand, I would have side-stepped the work and he would have
continued to assume he could “get away with it” in other situations. In this
way, and in many others, the therapy room is a mini-laboratory for the outside
world.
Conclusion: Deceit and dishonesty
undermine any and every relationship with oneself and others. Coping with this
behavior requires courage on the part of the client and the psychotherapist and
offers an avenue to major change.
Dear Reader, Your comments (on this
tough subject) are welcome. jsimon145@gmail.com
No comments:
Post a Comment