My Most Interesting Lies

Someone on Quora asked, "What was your most convincing lie?" Here's the answer I gave (at https://www.quora.com/Whats-your-most-convincing-lie/answer/Eric-Hamell?prompt_topic_bio=1):

Strictly speaking, any lie that is believed is 100% convincing, so all successful lies are equally convincing. So the more interesting question would be, what's the lie I've told that's most impressive for having been believed?

Two stand out. In 2002, I decided to volunteer with the International Solidarity Movement, which tries to help Palestinians survive the effects of occupation by providing nonviolent accompaniment as nationals of powerful states. It was suggested that when volunteers arrived in Israel, they should say they're tourists.  But since I'd never been interested in tourism, I doubted I'd be convincing if I said that.

To avoid raising suspicion, I had decided to bring only non-political reading matter on the trip. It so happened two books I'd purchased recently were on the subject of alleged paranormal phenomena, so I chose them to bring along. Prompted by something my landlord said when I told him this, I also made this my cover story: I had come to the country to do paranormal investigations.

I dressed the part by wearing every suitable button in my possession: Mr. Spock, Men in Black II, and The SETI League. While on the shuttle from the plane to Tel Aviv Airport, a young Israeli told me he agreed with my button. I asked which one and he said, "All of them." I smiled.

When I arrived in the building, sure enough I was approached and asked if I could answer a few questions. So I was taken into a room where two airport police asked me about my plans. It seemed like ten minutes but perhaps only felt that way because I was tense. I made sure to put the book I'd just started reading on a filing cabinet near my seat, with the binding facing the two men. I relished the irony of the title in this context: The Trickster and the Paranormal.

I clearly made them comfortable. Toward the end one of them asked if I could bend spoons. We both laughed as I said, "No, I thought that was what your people did!"

The other time was in 2010, when I was invited to attend a Meetup group's book discussion of Ayn Rand's novella _Anthem_. I'd joined this group online when all I knew was that it described itself as a philosophy club. I had subsequently figured out it was actually an arm of an Internet-based anarcho-capitalist cult called Freedomain Radio, whose leader is known for always trying to persuade followers that their families of origin are "toxic" and should be cut off ("de-FOOed").

Years earlier I'd taken an intellectual interest in Rand's ideas and had read some of her works, including _Anthem_. More recently I'd taken an interest in the ideas of Robert Jay Lifton, considered foundational for the cultic studies field, and it occurred to me that the society depicted in the book illustrates several parts of Lifton's eight-point description of ideological totalism. So I re-read it and composed a review of the book in these terms to present at the meeting. I made enough copies for all who'd RSVPed, plus one for myself to refer to during the discussion.

More than the number who'd RSVPed showed up, however. It was a good thing I'd held on to one copy of the review, because I recognized (from her name and picture on the group's Meetup page) one of those who arrived later as the daughter of one of the de-FOOed parents with whom I was acquainted. She was eager to learn "how to tell who's mind-controlled," and I eagerly gave her the review.

I didn't tell any actual lies at this meeting, but many half-truths. For instance, I truthfully related to Emily how I'd been involved in a socialist political cult in my adolescence. I just didn't mention the part about my still being a socialist. As the conversation splintered and drifted away from the book, it became increasingly indistinguishable from others I'd taken part in, like my atheist Meetup group, and my tension lessened as fitting in became less calculated.

Some months later I learned this local branch of the cult had been discontinued by its organizer. I couldn't tell whether my intervention had contributed to this development, but I like to think it may have, by providing the members with some psycho-education in a context where they weren't defensive since it didn't appear to be aimed at their group. On one subsequent occasion Emily very briefly dropped in on a monthly local meeting of the International Cultic Studies Association (where I'd met the de-FOOed parents) with a bunch of her friends to say hello to her mother; there was no indication whether she recognized me sitting at the same table.