Lying is one of those things we all think we’ve got figured out.
You say something that isn’t true. You know it isn’t true. You say it anyway. Simple. Easy. Done.
…except, it’s really not.
Because when you look at it through an autistic lens, things get a lot less straightforward — and a whole lot more interesting.
Honesty: default setting
For many autistic people, honesty isn’t just “the best policy” — it’s the only policy. It’s clear. It’s logical. It avoids confusion. Why would you say something that isn’t true when you could just… say the truth? Revolutionary, I know.
But then society throws in curveballs like:
- “Do you like my haircut?”
- “I’m fine.” (when they are very much not fine)
- “Oh no, I love it!” (they absolutely do not love it)
And suddenly honesty comes with… conditions? Are we supposed to tell the truth — or perform it?
The unwritten rules (that nobody actually writes down)
There isn’t a social rulebook. Instead, we get given a set of instructions that contradict each other at every turn:
- Always tell the truth
- Don’t hurt people’s feelings
- Be honest — but not too honest
- Don’t lie — but sometimes you kind of have to
Right. Clear as mud.
For an autistic person, this can feel like being asked to follow rules that constantly change without warning — and then being told off for getting it wrong. Exhausting doesn’t even cover it.
The great smoke incident
Let me give you an example that’s stayed with me.
I was dating someone who was an ex-smoker. And just to be clear — I detest smoking with every fibre of my being. It’s not a mild dislike. It’s a full-body, immediate “absolutely not” reaction.
So one day I got into his car… and I could smell it straight away. Smoke.
I asked: “Were you smoking?”
Without even a pause, he said: “No, that was the person in the car next to me.”
Fair enough, I thought. Took him at his word.
But a mile down the road, the smell was still there. Strong as ever. So I said, “You’re lying… it was you.”
And he started laughing.
Laughing…!!!
Then told me he wasn’t lying — it was “just a joke.”
A joke. Right.
Now, in my head: when you say something that isn’t true in response to a direct question… that’s a lie. End of discussion. Case closed. Jury dismissed.
In his head: it was harmless. Playful. Not meant to cause any real harm.
Same situation. Two completely different interpretations. And that right there is the whole point.
When “lying” isn’t actually lying
There’s something important we need to talk about — because sometimes autistic people are accused of lying when that isn’t what’s happening at all.
Sometimes it’s misremembering details. Sometimes it’s struggling to find the right words. Sometimes it’s filling in gaps to make sense of a situation, or saying what they genuinely believe to be true. There is no intent to deceive.
But it can still be perceived that way.
And for someone who values honesty so deeply — being called a liar can feel devastating. Not just upsetting. Devastating.
Truth isn’t always simple. But for a lot of autistic people, it’s everything.
And maybe the world could do with being a little more straightforward sometimes. Because if you ask a direct question… don’t be surprised when someone expects a direct answer.
