The Trust Conundrum

Deciding when and whether to give trust is one of those endless dilemmas of the freedom movement. Well, of life, too, of course. But the decision to trust — or not — becomes a lot more vital when you might be doing something Authoritah disapproves of.

On the Internet, you’ll find a lot of pat advice about how to bestow trust — or not. Tell people only what they need to know. Isolate suspected informers. Etc. I’ve written some of that advice myself and read more of it. Some of the advice is sound, some stupid.

Ahem, mine of course is always of the sound variety. But speaking of stupid …

When illegal recreational drugs first became a thing, for instance, there was a widespread — but completely bonkers — belief that if you asked somebody, “Are you a narc?” and they said no, then if that person actually was a narc they could never, ever arrest you or testify against you. Ha! As we now know, cops and their freelance agents are as free as little birdies to lie to us. And lie and lie and lie again. Then cage us and feel virtuous about themselves. It’s only We the Peasants who are forbidden to lie to them.

Yet some people (now freedomistas more than drug users, I expect) still believe that if they ask, “Are you an informant?” Then the person asked can never legally inform on them after saying no.

Yikes! Some people.

But even sound advice (like that given in Rats! the no-snitch book) still requires enormous amounts of personal judgment, experience, and — face it — luck when you’re dealing with potentially threatening matters.

—–

Now, I hasten to assure Authoritah that I’m not Up to Anything. Of course not. Impossible. Never happen. Really.

But trust is on my mind today because I’ve concluded that a person recently in my sphere — somebody who has always behaved with impeccable honesty and honor toward me — is actually a deep-dyed liar.

I know he’s a braggart and a narcissist. This has been evident from the beginning. He’s the star of his own life, a life that’s been filled (as he tells it) with drama, tragedy, danger, remarkable achievement, and great adventure. He’s smarter, more ethical, and more capable than anyone he knows. He’s handsome and witty and street-smart and in his own eyes just generally a superior human being. All conversation with him is conversation about him, and he clearly finds every word of it fascinating.

We’ve all met people like this, of course. And they are not to be trusted. Ever. And no, I do not trust him. When he related to me the very first of his many dramatic life episodes, I filed it under “Well … maybe,” even though at that point I had no reason to consider him anything but a normal, decent person.

I am firmly of the “Trust, but verify” school.

As he has spun more and more tales, I’ve filed everything under, “Oh, gimme a break!” I haven’t yet caught him in one of those telling inconsistencies that definitively prove he’s lying, but it’s only a matter of time.

If you’ve dealt with this sort of person you’ll know as well as I do that tale-spinning narcissists always — always — display a host of other behavior problems. Maybe they’re unreliable workers. Or alcoholics. Or serial sexual cheaters. Or compulsive gamblers. They might embezzle funds from their job or stab friends in the back or be chronically two hours late (with lame excuses) or constantly connive to stick other people with their restaurant or bar tabs. But there’s always something, usually a whole gang of problematic behaviors, that warn, “This person is bad news.”

—–

The odddity about this particular guy is that, when not creating a past for himself worthy of an epic trilogy, his behavior is absolutely impeccable. He is widely admired and respected and he has earned that respect through clear-cut, decent actions.

Being really, really good while also being a phony is usually a sign of someone Seriously Up To No Good. It usually indicates said boastful fabulist is not merely the possessor of a garden-variety personality disorder but is a sociopath lining up potential victims.

In that case, though, I’d expect him to be too good, too ingratiating, and he’s not. I’d expect him to start probing for naive acts of trust from me, and he hasn’t.

This is a new sort of creature to me. I’m not sure what game he’s playing. But I’ll figure this out. I’m not looking for advice; just observing that the varieties of untrustworthiness are many. And such complications are why I take the Reaganite line “trust, but verify” and highly recommend it to others.

And, as a side thought, people are the world’s best reasons for other people to become hermits.

The dim possibility exists that he’s authentic. But I assume I’m being gamed and I game him in return by letting him think, for now, that I believe his tales. (I have reasons for not removing him from my life, BTW, and they’re good ones.) I assume he thinks I’m naive enough to buy his whole routine, while I’m watching him warily, amused by the fact that he thinks I’m impressed.

My position towards him is something like Kathy Bates’ in the famous “Towanda!” scene from Fried Green Tomatoes. He may be younger, faster, and sneaky, but “I’m older and I have more insurance.”

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In the freedom movement, we may not always be older (and let’s hope we’re not, because new generations should be rising vigorously to replace us as that happens). But if relationships in everyday life can be this “interesting,” then where seriously big issues and plans are at stake, we should always have the better insurance of being smart, watchful, wary, and non-naive.

Everyday life has enough odd and generally unreliable people in it. “Movements” attract many more of the same. Some are sincere people who just don’t have what it takes to function in a particular environment. Some are dirty, rotten, unforgivable rats. And some are unbalanced types who gravitate toward resistance precisely because they’re unbalanced. All of them require greater wisdom, balance, watchfulness, and (ultimately) decisiveness from the rest of us than we may need to use in safer circumstances.