The Truth Shall Set You Free

The following essay first appeared as an article in Alvaro de Vicente’s Substack publication, Men in the Making. For more articles like this one, you can visit his page here. Subscribe to the publication to stay up-to-date on Alvaro’s writing.

My last few essays have dealt with two of the three most common tendencies that prevent boys from accepting guidance from parents and mentors: obstinacy and laziness. This essay will finish our trio of fundamental personal impediments to a boy receiving help, and focus on insincerity. 

While boys can be insincere in many contexts—in friendships, on sports teams, with strangers—this article will focus on insincerity in one relationship in particular: the relationship between a boy and a parent or mentor who has the responsibility for helping him grow. This relationship is foundational for a boy’s moral development, and it is precisely here that insincerity is most dangerous. For in this relationship, insincerity does not merely obscure the truth; it blocks formation. It prevents the parent from helping, the mentor from guiding, and the boy from growing. A boy who is insincere in this relationship has effectively disabled his own support system.

A False Friend: Insincerity as a Tool

To be insincere in this relationship is to intentionally deceive someone who is responsible to care for and form you. Often, an insincere boy hides the truth from a parent or mentor in order to do something he knows the adult would not condone—whether in general (if habitually smoking marijuana, for example), or in a particular instance (if avoiding one’s homework for the night). In these cases, insincerity is a tool, a way of securing permission without earning it or avoiding discipline without correcting the behavior that caused it.

Sometimes, this tool is wielded not for the sake of self-indulgence, but for what the boy perceives as loyalty to others. Ron Taffel in The Second Family writes that teenagers tend to be “virtuous horizontally”—that is, loyal to peers—rather than “vertically”—loyal to adults. A boy may lie to his teacher to protect a friend or withhold truth from his parents to avoid betraying someone else. In doing so, he may even see himself as courageous or noble. But what he has really done is embrace the view that the end justifies the means. It is a false virtue, built on falsehood.

Insincerity among boys is likely more widespread than most parents would expect. And it is difficult to detect. As Charles Dickens once wrote, “I have known a vast quantity of nonsense talked about bad men not looking you in the face. Don’t trust that conventional idea. Dishonesty will stare honesty out of countenance any day in the week, if there is anything to be got by it.” Though I have never, in my own experience, met a boy who thought of himself as insincere, I have met many who were willing to be insincere when they sincerely believed they had to be. Insincerity, for them, is not an identity—it is a survival strategy.

At its root, insincerity is a form of cowardice. As C. S. Lewis noted, “Courage is… the form of every virtue at the testing point.” To be sincere, especially when doing so will bring consequences, takes moral strength. The boy who lies to avoid a punishment, to protect a peer, or to get what he wants lacks that strength. He takes the easier path. And as with all habits, the more he practices it, the easier it becomes.

A boy who is habitually insincere is increasingly hard to help. His parents are left guessing at the truth; the very conversations that could correct his behavior are undermined before they begin. Worse still, trust begins to erode at an exponential rate. A parent who has been lied to once will suspect he is being lied to again. This can make the relationship tense, which only pushes the boy to become still more closed off.

Because insincerity often enables indulgence, the insincere boy tends to become less disciplined. Even if his desires are not intrinsically wrong—a desire to play or hang out with friends, for instance—he becomes used to obeying his urges rather than mastering them. A boy who cannot say no to himself cannot grow into a man who governs himself.

What You Can Do

To begin with, recognize how difficult sincerity can be. Telling the truth, when it comes at a cost, is an act of strength. So when a boy chooses to be honest—especially when he knows it may bring consequences—praise him. Let him know that his honesty is seen, appreciated, and admired.

Second, model sincerity in your own life. When your son asks a question that would tempt you to lie—“Did you drink when you were my age?”—it is better to decline to answer than to deceive. Show him, by your actions, that truth matters, even when it is difficult.

Third, reward sincerity. A boy who tells the truth, especially about a wrongdoing you would not otherwise have discovered, should be treated differently than one who gets caught. A boy who courageously brings up a difficult topic should leave the conversation more encouraged to do so in the future. To this end, you may even consider eliminating punishment in cases of voluntary confession. If he tells you before you find out, lessen the consequences. If he admits quickly when confronted, acknowledge that too. You are not excusing the behavior, but you are reinforcing the virtue. 

At the same time, punish insincerity more than the misbehavior the boy was trying to hide. The lie is worse than the forgotten chore, the skipped reading, or the broken rule. The lie corrodes trust.

Finally, always discipline with a view to the relationship. Your goal is not merely to correct bad behavior; it is to build the kind of trust in which sincere conversations become possible. The more trust you build, the easier it will be for your son to choose sincerity in the future.

Sincerity with Yourself

If insincerity seems to be a recurring and widespread problem, you may consider if part of the problem is the atmosphere that your demeanor and actions create around your conversations with your son. Perhaps your well-intentioned desire to uncover the truth is unintentionally deepening his resistance. Do your conversations feel like a loving dialogue or a legal deposition? Your goal is not simply to extract the truth from him, as if he were a witness on the stand. Your goal is to make an environment that is conducive to him wanting to tell the truth. You cannot force it, but your manner can make it more possible. Be honest with yourself.