Lying: America’s Greatest Political Tradition
Politicians lie.
I know, shocking revelation. Take a moment to process. Maybe sit down, grab some water. We good? Great.
We like to pretend that lying in politics is some unfortunate, modern development—something that started with, I don’t know, Nixon, or Clinton, or whatever era you personally decided was the beginning of civilization. But let’s be honest: lying in American politics isn’t a bug—it’s the operating system.
And folks, it's not just that politicians lie—it's that we, the public, reward them for it. You don’t win elections with honesty. Honesty is for losers. The truth gets you a nice participation trophy and a concession speech. The people who win? They’re the ones who understand the game—and the game is lying big, bold, and repeatedly.
The Art of the Lie: A Truly American Pastime
We love to call out lying in politics like it’s some rare occurrence. “Can you believe this politician just made something up?” Yes. Yes, I can. What’s more surprising is when a politician tells the truth. That’s the real scandal.
“Senator, did you just admit that policy is based on corporate donations?”
“Oh, crap, I—I mean, uh, the American people deserve transparency! We must look forward, not backward!”
American politics has a storied tradition of lying. Hell, our first real scandal, the XYZ Affair in 1798, was a diplomatic blunder that President John Adams turned into an opportunity to fearmonger the country into paranoia. And it worked! People ate it up! Adams framed it like the French were scheming Bond villains trying to destroy the U.S., when in reality, it was just some sketchy diplomats trying to get a payday.
But the public? Oh, they were furious—about the version of the story Adams fed them. “France insulted our honor! We must go to war!” Sound familiar? It should. We’ve been remixing that same track for over two centuries.
The More You Repeat It, the More It’s True!
A truly great political lie doesn’t just get told once—it gets workshopped, refined, and focus-grouped. It’s like a stand-up comedian testing a bit in small clubs before their Netflix special. You have to sell it.
Think about it:
If you lie once, people fact-check you.
If you lie 100 times, it becomes an opinion.
If you lie 1,000 times, it’s patriotism.
And if you lie for years? Well, then it becomes history.
“They’re Not Lying, They’re Just... Framing the Narrative”
Now, politicians don’t call it lying. No, no, that would be crude. Instead, they say they are “shaping the narrative.” They are clarifying. They are presenting an alternative perspective.
“Did you say that immigrants were bringing crime into the country?”
“No, no, I simply emphasized the importance of border security using colorful language.”
“Did you lie about your opponent’s voting record?”
“I merely reinterpreted it for today’s audience.”
“Did you promise tax cuts for the middle class and then only cut taxes for billionaires?”
“Well, technically, the billionaires are part of the middle class... if you stand them between two other billionaires.”
See? It’s all about branding. Lying isn’t lying if you give it a fun little name.
Some Lies Are So Big, They Become Reality
Some lies get repeated so much that even the people telling them start to believe them. That’s when you know you’ve got a Hall of Fame Lie.
Like when Ronald Reagan swore on his Hollywood cowboy hat that trickle-down economics would benefit everyone. And for 40 years, we’ve had politicians saying, “Just wait! Any day now, those benefits will trickle down!”
I’m sorry, trickle? We’re supposed to get excited about a trickle? It’s been four decades, and the middle class is still standing in the desert with its mouth open like a sad cartoon character waiting for a drop of water.
Or how about Weapons of Mass Destruction?
No, not the actual ones—because they didn’t exist.
But that didn’t stop an entire war! We bombed a country based on a lie, and then when no WMDs showed up, we just went, “Well, we’re here now, might as well make the most of it.”
If you pulled this move in real life, you’d be in jail. Imagine calling the police and saying, “Officer, my neighbor has a meth lab!” The SWAT team busts in, tears the place apart, and finds nothing. And instead of apologizing, you go, “Okay, but have you seen the way he looks at me? He’s definitely up to something.”
Even When Lies Get Exposed, They Still Work
The best part? Even when these lies get proven false, they still work.
Why? Because we don’t punish lying in politics—we reward it.
A politician lies.
The media covers the lie.
The lie gets debunked.
The debunking makes people talk about the lie more.
People believe some version of the lie.
The politician wins re-election.
It’s like playing Monopoly, but instead of going to jail for fraud, you just keep collecting votes and corporate donations.
So, What Do We Do?
Good question!
The obvious answer would be to demand better from our politicians. But we won’t. We’ll keep electing them. We’ll keep arguing about their lies instead of demanding honesty. And they’ll keep lying to us because it works.
The real solution? At the very least, we should demand better lies. If you’re going to lie to the public, at least make it creative. Stop recycling the same tired nonsense. If a politician came out and said, “I was chosen by an ancient order of wizards to run for office,” I’d at least respect the effort.
But as long as we reward deception, we’re going to get more of it. So the next time you hear a politician say something that sounds a little too perfect, a little too convenient, just remember:
They’re not lying to you.
They’re just managing your perception.
And it’s working.
Speaking of Lies… Here’s One: “Writers Don’t Need to Make Money”
Look, I’d love to keep writing full-time. I’d love to keep pointing out the absurdity of politics, exposing the playbook of the powerful, and making you laugh through the pain. But that requires something very simple: money—the one thing trickle-down economics promised but never actually trickled.
So if you enjoyed this breakdown of how lying is America’s favorite pastime, and you want more in-depth, darkly funny analysis on how the rich and powerful rig the system, do me a favor: buy my book, Immunity: How the Elite Stay Untouchable Through Weakness.
It’s a deep dive into how power isn’t about strength—it’s about knowing how to be weak at the right time, in the right way, to the right audience. It’s about billionaires who pretend they’re “just like you,” politicians who use failure as a launchpad, and corporations that convince you they need your tax dollars while making record profits.
It’s smart. It’s funny. And most importantly, it helps me pay my bills so I don’t have to pivot to selling vitamins on a podcast. You know the ones that you try to skip but end up skipping to the next episode in your podcast que.
So, click the link, grab a copy, and support a writer who’d rather spend his time exposing how power works instead of figuring out how to turn NFTs into a side hustle.
Click on the image to buy.
Because if politicians get paid for lying, writers should at least get paid for telling the truth about it.
