A Philosophical Study of Lying and Misleading
On the difference between lying and misleading and which is worse...
Lying is bad. We all know that. It’s been bad since forever—since the Bible, where Jesus said, “Thou shall not lie,” and since Kant argued that lying violates a categorical imperative.1 We’ve got millennia of moral finger-wagging to back this up.
But, naturally, we’re not satisfied with absolutes.
“It’s better to lie than to hurt someone’s feelings,” we argue. If your friend is wearing something utterly hideous, it’s kind to say, “You look great!” instead of, “You’ve just won the Most Tragic Outfit award.” This logic relies on a sort of ethical math: the wrongness of lying is outweighed by the wrongness of cruelty. Classic consequentialism, where the end justifies the mendacious means.
But if truth isn’t our guiding star, then what is? And who can we trust when everyone’s a part-time truth-bender?
Lying and truth-telling aren’t just ethical dilemmas; they’re high-stakes balancing acts. Even the pause before you respond can give you away. There is more to lying than a binary right and wrong. There’s lying, and then there’s misleading.
Both differ but they’ve been sparring in the philosophical arena for ages. Philosophers look at which one is more acceptable and which interferes with epistemic rights? That is what I aim to explore today and share my thoughts on the two and how we can use this philosophy in our everyday lives — especially online!
Definitions
Let me start with a few philosophical definitions.
Lying.
A liar makes false assertions.
An assertion is a direct expression of a proposition.
To lie, then, is to state something you believe to be false, with the intent that others will believe it to be true.
Misleading.
A misleader plays with implications.
They make false conversational implicatures.
An implicature is the meaning you pick up from context, even though it wasn’t directly stated.
To mislead is to manipulate this contextual understanding while technically keeping your statements true.
Both acts violate our basic duty to be informative.
Why Lying is Worse
The dominant belief—philosophically and practically—is that lying is worse. Kant led this charge, arguing that lying is categorically forbidden, while mere deception might pass muster. I won’t delve too deep into Kant here because he is confusing at the best of times! But his reasoning is that lying corrupts the act of assertion itself, the foundation of communication.
Philosophers like Chisholm and Feehan (1977) extend this, claiming lying breaches faith.2
In contemporary debate, this idea is explored and shared by J. Saul in Just Go Ahead and Lie.3 We expect others to tell the truth, and lying shatters that trust. Lying damages your credibility in both what you say (assertions) and what you imply (implicatures). Misleading, by contrast, only messes with the implicatures. A liar leaves fewer conversational options; they’ve rewritten the narrative. A misleader, though sneaky, hasn’t demolished the whole framework.
Why Misleading Might Be Worse
On the other hand, some argue misleading is the greater betrayal. And I think I have to agree. There is more cunning behaviour at work here. The subtle twisting of the truth.
In Better Lie! Rees argues that misleading makes the victim complicit.4 The deceived person uses their rational faculties to fill in the gaps, to infer the implied meaning. Communication is a cooperative act, and misleading exploits this cooperation. It’s like handing someone a map with “shortest route” written on it, knowing full well it’ll lead them into quicksand. They trust you, and you let them do the work of fooling themselves.
Grice's Maxims, part of his Cooperative Principle, outline how effective communication relies on shared assumptions between speakers and listeners. 5
These maxims are:
Quantity: provide the right amount of information, not too much or too little
Quality: be truthful and avoid falsehoods
Relation: stay relevant to the topic
Manner: communicate clearly, avoiding ambiguity or obscurity
When speakers intentionally flout these maxims, they often generate conversational implicatures—meanings inferred from context rather than directly stated.
It is also important to note that there are also those who believe that lying and misleading are both just as bad as one another and we should avoid doing both!
How to implement these philosophies into your life
Now these philosophies are pretty linguistic and pretty easy to adapt, and I think whatever stance you take on which is worse than the other, they are philosophies that we should be implementing into our lives.
In the digital realm, lying and misleading are not just philosophical puzzles—they’re everyday phenomena. The internet thrives on information, but the nature of that information often blurs the line between outright falsehoods and subtle manipulations. This is where philosophical insights into lying and misleading can sharpen our understanding and behavior online.
The first defense against online deception is cultivating skepticism—not the kind that leaves you distrustful of everything but a thoughtful skepticism that refuses to take anything at face value.
When I first started university there was a guy who was sceptical about everything and it was annoying and seemed unnecessary. But by the end of my degree I found I too was a skeptic. I didn’t know what to believe and I suspended most of my judgement on anything — and I still have really. And a bit of a juxtaposition, it’s provided a lot of mental clarity. Especially when consuming media online.
Every post, tweet, or headline requires scrutiny, a willingness to examine both sides of a story and consider the motivations behind the content.
This mindset is especially valuable in a world where platforms like X and Substack thrive on engagement. Social media algorithms reward sensationalism and relatability, often at the cost of truth. A tweet’s brevity makes it the perfect breeding ground for misleading implications, while longer formats like Substack essays can embellish personal struggles to elicit sympathy or admiration. Are these lies? Not necessarily. But they are manipulative, violating our epistemic right to truth—the right to access information presented with integrity. We should be reading with caution.
Consider the rising “Substack confessional.” Writers share deeply personal stories that are probably true but curated to shape a particular narrative. These stories often lack the full context. By withholding key details, the writer misleads their audience, manipulating them into a specific emotional response.
In this sense, the Substacker’s misleading behavior parallels the influencer who edits their life into an Instagram highlight reel. Both play with conversational implicatures, relying on their audience to fill in the gaps and arrive at a preordained conclusion. This isn’t lying in the Kantian sense, but it’s a betrayal of the cooperative principles of communication.
The rise of fake news and AI-generated content adds another layer to this ethical dilemma. Fake news represents outright lies, asserting falsehoods with the intent to deceive. AI, however, often misleads by presenting credible-sounding content without transparency about its origins or accuracy. This distinction matters because while a lie can be identified and disproven, misleading content exploits the audience’s trust and rationality, making them complicit in their own deception.
So, what can we do? Philosophers like Kant, Chisholm, and Feehan might argue for a return to strict honesty, but the internet thrives on nuance and partial truths. Instead, here are some ways to interact with digital media to ensure our epistemic rights are not violated:
Pause before believing.
Adopt a skeptic mindedness and do your research.
Consider both sides of the story.
Consider what someone may be trying to achieve.
Question the completeness
Hold space for nuances
At its core, the tension between lying and misleading online mirrors the challenges of communication itself. Whether we’re debating a friend’s questionable outfit or scrolling through a viral post, the choice between truth and deception is rarely black and white. But by bringing philosophical insight to our digital interactions, we can navigate these grey areas with greater care and integrity.
If we must bend the truth, let it be thoughtful, intentional, and ultimately harmless. And if we’re being lied to? Let’s be good at spotting it.
Please find below a drive to the below references and further resources on the topic:
Kant, I. (1996). On a supposed right to lie from philanthropy. In M. J. Gregor (Ed. & Trans.), Practical philosophy (pp. 605–615). Cambridge University Press. (Original work published 1797)
Chisholm, R. M., & Feehan, T. D. (1977). The intent to deceive. Journal of Philosophy, 74(3), 143–159.
Saul, J. 2012: ‘Just go ahead and lie’, Analysis 72/1: 3–9.
Rees, C. F. 2014: ‘Better lie!’, Analysis 74/1: 59–64.
Grice, H. P. (1975). Logic and conversation. In P. Cole & J. L. Morgan (Eds.), Syntax and semantics: Vol. 3. Speech acts (pp. 41–58). New York: Academic Press.