A lie would have no sense unless the truth were felt dangerous.
Hear now the words of Alfred Adler, who in his wisdom declared: “A lie would have no sense unless the truth were felt dangerous.” This saying is not a mere turn of phrase, but a key to the human heart, a revelation of the hidden battle between light and shadow. For why does man turn from truth, if not because truth strikes too deeply, shatters illusions, and threatens the fragile towers he has built upon the sand? The lie exists not for its own sake, but as a shield against the fire of reality. It is born from fear, for men sense that truth carries weight, and that weight is heavy to bear.
The ancients understood this well. They knew that truth is like a sword, both radiant and perilous. It cuts through pretense, it lays bare the soul. A lie, then, is but a dull shield, forged in haste, to deflect that sword. Consider how empires, fearing the judgment of their people, cloak their misdeeds in honeyed words. They do not lie because truth is meaningless—no! They lie because truth has power, a dangerous power, enough to shake thrones and scatter tyrants.
Reflect upon the tale of Galileo Galilei, the stargazer who lifted his eyes to the heavens and saw that the earth moved around the sun. This truth, so simple and so clear, was branded dangerous by the rulers of his day. They demanded a lie, for to admit the truth would unravel the authority of their doctrines. And so, Galileo was silenced, not because he was wrong, but because he was too right. His truth was perilous, a flame that might have consumed the old order before its time. Here we see Adler’s wisdom incarnate: a lie gains its sense only in the presence of a dangerous truth.
The same is found in every age. Slaves are told they are destined by nature to be slaves, women told they are too weak to wield power, nations told they must bow to conquerors. These are not harmless tales, but lies spoken to bury truths that threaten the strong. The truth—that all men and women are born with equal dignity, that freedom is the birthright of the soul—was long feared, long suppressed, precisely because it was dangerous to the mighty. And yet, like fire beneath ash, it never perished.
O listener, let your heart take courage in this: the presence of lies is itself proof that truth still lives. Lies swarm like flies around the light, but they cannot extinguish it. The greater the lie, the greater the fear it betrays. The tyrant’s roar is but the trembling of a heart that knows the truth approaches. Therefore, when you hear a lie repeated endlessly, do not despair. Instead, ask: what truth is so dangerous that it must be hidden from my sight?
The lesson is clear: do not fear the truth, even when it wounds. The wound is the beginning of healing. To walk in lies may soothe you for a season, but it will bind you in chains. To embrace truth, however perilous, is to walk the path of freedom. Better the sharp sting of reality than the soft poison of falsehood. As the prophets of old declared, “Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”
So what must you do? First, practice courage in small things. Speak honestly when it costs you little, so that when it costs you much, your spirit will be strong. Second, seek silence each day, to strip away the noise of lies and listen for the whisper of truth within. Third, when you hear others cling to illusions, do not mock them, but gently remind them that fear, not folly, often guides the hand that hides the truth.
In the end, remember Adler’s words: a lie has no sense except against the light of truth. Therefore, chase after truth with steadfast steps. It is a fire, yes—but it is the fire that warms, the fire that purifies, the fire that frees. And when you stand within its glow, you will see that the danger was never in the truth itself, but in the chains that sought to hold it back. Choose truth. Fear not its danger, for its danger is the beginning of your freedom.
BTMinh Bui Thi
Adler’s quote suggests that lies are a form of defense against something we fear, but what if the ‘danger’ is not about harm but discomfort or conflict? How much of what we consider ‘dangerous’ is really just emotional or societal pressure? Can we be truly open to the truth if we are conditioned to see it as a threat? What would it take to reframe truth in a way that doesn’t feel threatening?
VNVan Vinh Nguyen
I find this quote by Adler quite profound because it implies that lies are inherently linked to a fear of truth. It’s almost as though we can’t lie unless there’s something in the truth we’re trying to avoid. But isn’t the truth often subjective? How do we determine whether a truth is truly dangerous, or if it’s just uncomfortable? Can there ever be a ‘safe’ truth?
VHNguyen Trung Viet Huy
This quote brings an interesting perspective on why people lie. If truth were always safe, would lies even exist? It makes me wonder—do we lie to protect ourselves, or is it because we are afraid of the consequences of truth being exposed? Could society ever evolve to a point where truth is no longer dangerous, and honesty becomes the default, rather than a rare act of courage?
DDDinh Dongvan
Alfred Adler's quote really makes me think about how lies often arise out of fear or discomfort with the truth. It suggests that lies are not just fabrications, but reactions to something deeper, something threatening. Do you think this is always true? Are there instances where lies are told for reasons other than fear, like for personal gain or convenience? How can we start confronting the truths we find dangerous?