The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Bart Simpson once sold his soul to Milhouse for $5. Ms. Tracy "Fast Car" Chapman reminds us that all that you have is your soul. And yet, so many people are willing to trade in their souls--and by that I mean put their good names on the line--for money, fame, or as is the case with some people I know all too well, merely because they harbor a terribly sad inability to tell the truth.

First, there's money. Greedy people selling their souls to the devil for a quick buck is nothing new. But the economic collapse seems to be bringing these people to the forefront. And for once, because we're all hurting so much, regular people are starting to take notice. Bernie Madoff and Allen Stanford are just the most well-known. And you have to wonder if you'd do it too if you were in their shoes: the promise of lots of money, somewhat slim chance of getting caught, live the high life until you do get caught, and then use high-priced lawyers to cut a deal when it all comes crashing down. And all those people who trusted you with their money? Suckers! But isn't there something more than all this? Besides the "do unto others" bit, isn't there a responsibility people have to themselves to protect their good name?

Then there's fame. I came across this clip recently of Ann Coulter debating Al Franken. In it, Al jokes that he flipped to a random page in one of Ann's books and bet his assistant that he could find a lie on that random page. He did. Ann quoted a snippet from a New York Times article. But she quoted it so terribly out of context that she ended up writing about apples while the columnist had been writing about oranges. The distortion was inexcusable. Franken calls her out on it. The audience laughs at how ridiculous Ann's lie was. Then, remarkably, Ann defends her outrageous words by standing by her quotation and ranting about some nonsense whereby liberals won't allow her to paraphrase. It's so Bush-esque. Stay the course! Don't waffle! Had she just admitted she lied (in a New York Times bestselling book), she would have lost some credibility, yes. But at least she wouldn't look like a rotten, dirty, intransigent liar. But, hey, why protect your good name, right? Reputation takes a backseat to fame and money yet again.

And then there are people who--for whatever reason--endlessly struggle with telling the truth. It may be because telling the truth would involve coming clean about prior mountains of dishonesty. It may be because the truth is too hard to tell someone because it would involve almost-certain rejection. It may be because that person doesn't think random strangers are entitled to the truth. Regardless, each and every one of us is only so forgiving. As the boy who cried "wolf!" reminds us: "Even when liars tell the truth, they are never believed. The liar will lie once, twice, and then perish when he tells the truth." One might think that this childhood tale would be ingrained in our psyches by the time we hit our twenties. Yet for some, it is not. Who needs to protect one's good name, right? There are friends and lovers aplenty in the world. Find another. Repeat cycle. And pile on to the dishonesty that wrecks us all.

What these people fail to absorb is that if you lose your good name--if people lose their faith in you--you have nothing. Nothing. Which makes me wonder, maybe Madoff, Stanford, Coulter, and certain persons from my own life are lacking something more than just their good names. Maybe they just don't give a damn anymore, because they've long since lost their souls.