Randall Murphree
AFA Journal editor
April 2001 – Deception, lies, and fraud have been mainstays of literary masterpieces through the centuries. Such acts are, after all, the natural product of man's sinful nature. Until recent decades, most literary works followed a pattern that reflected a conflict between villain and hero, right and wrong.
Hence, literature has often been the vehicle by which we are uplifted and encouraged that morality can triumph over immorality. The elements of great literature traditionally reflected the reality of man's age-old struggle between good and evil.
Even when villains competed for our sympathies, it was because we knew the consequences they faced. In the 1960s and '70s, however, a rapidly changing pop culture began to introduce villain/heroes, characters whose rebellion, lawlessness or immoral lifestyles appealed to our own basest nature.
Clint Eastwood, in The Good, The Bad and the Ugly (1966) and other spaghetti westerns, often played a bounty hunter or treasure seeker who let no one get in the way of his goal. Train robbers Lee Marvin and Jane Fonda in Cat Ballou (1965), and outlaws Paul Newman and Robert Redford in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) enthralled movie buffs with villains we loved.
They let us live vicariously with no moral restraint. They made us cheer in the theaters as movies began to spin out of control with no moral compass. Unfortunately, television followed close behind film in its adulation of the anti-hero.
In 1953, just as the TV set was becoming a household fixture, Samuel Shellabarger wrote, "A man, a nation, a millennium, grows and is strong, or declines and perishes, in proportion to the spiritual content of each" (Lord Vanity, Chapter 14). He probably had no idea how accurately his words foreshadowed the imminent moral decline in American culture.
For example, on prime-time television, particularly in today's sitcoms, lying has become a way of life for the characters we laugh at, love and laud.
Lying occurs in various and creative ways, most of which fall neatly into three categories: adults lying, adults instructing children to lie, and children and teens lying. The examples that follow illustrate the kinds of characters who parade through America's homes every evening, serving as role models for all of us who watch.
Roseanne, queen of deceit
What must be understood is that lying on prime-time over the last two decades is decidedly different to the time in the 1950s when Lucy (Lucille Ball) lied to Ricky (Desi Arnaz) to trick him into buying a new sofa or taking a vacation. It isn't like when Barney (Don Knotts) "misled" Sheriff Taylor (Andy Griffith). Lucy and Barney always got caught and faced the consequences--even if only the shame of getting caught.
Today's lying characters rarely face consequences for their sin. When it comes to deceit and lies, arguably no character and no series has done more to disparage traditional Judeo-Christian values than ABC's Roseanne, which aired from October 18, 1988, until May 20, 1997. In a November, 1994 episode, main character Roseanne's diner ordered a new stove, but received delivery of two units by mistake. Roseanne sold the extra one and divided the money with her partners.
Theft is common among some of prime-time's favorite characters, including Golden Girls' Sophia, about 80, who stole the Pope's ring and lied when her daughter demanded she return it (NBC, 12/91). Fox's Homer Simpson defrauded the insurance company (The Simpsons, 5/91), and NBC's Jerry Seinfeld lied to the dry cleaner to get a discount (Seinfeld, 3/94).
Murphy Brown, CBS's feminist icon who decided to have a baby outside marriage, grew livid with anger (10/96) when her boss canceled her expense account because she was buying personal items on it. In Just Shoot Me (NBC, 11/97), Nina, a series regular and a nymphomaniac, lied shamelessly to her boss and bought shoes on her company expense account.
When Roseanne's husband Dan (2/96) was fired, he stole a tape dispenser, stapler, telephone, and desk. Laugh tracks validated every theft. And one of the heroines in Sisters (NBC, 4/96) stole souvenirs when she attended a White House function.
Norm, main character in ABC's Norm sitcom, runs Roseanne a close race for champion liar. In a March, 1999 episode, the social worker hired a teenage hooker at the office and told her to lie to their boss. To get his boss in trouble, Norm lied again, concocting a non-existent affair.
Prime-time soap operas certainly fueled the fire from the time Dallas came on CBS in 1978. In the 1990s, Fox's Melrose Place set the pace for leading liars. Beyond their illicit personal relationships, characters had no compunction about lying, e.g. Dr. Michael Mancini lied to get equipment for his new clinic (2/98). In the same series, Billy once gave an address (3/96) on ethics in advertising, and confessed with pride that he would lie, cheat and steal to get clients. His audience gave him a standing ovation.
In an interesting sub-group, Christian characters are frequently the liars in sitcoms. In the 1980s series Amen (NBC), Deacon Frye was regularly a liar and a cheat. A January 24, 1987 episode featured the pastor lying to get himself out of a jam. On CBS, The Cavanaughs (12/86) had a proud, self-centered priest who lied to the bishop to impress the superior clergyman.
In word, deed, adults teach lying
Not only are adults lying with no remorse and no consequences, but they also often instruct prime-time youngsters to lie. For example, one of the current hit sitcoms on Fox has featured Homer Simpson, the series father on The Simpsons (1/93), coaching his children in how to lie about their ages when the family gets to the ticket booth at an amusement park. On Soul Man (ABC, 10/97), Father Mike, a priest and series star, had his six-year-old son lie to a parishioner on the telephone.
Full House (ABC, 1/88), a popular '80s family sitcom, featured Uncle Joey prompting his five-year-old niece to lie for him to impress his girlfriend. In ABC's Family Man that same year, parents encouraged their six-year-old Josh to steal and lie. Mom laughed it off saying he lies and steals "because he's a kid." Again, it is noteworthy that in these--and most other sitcoms with lying kids--there are no consequences to face.
If prime-time parents don't overtly teach their children to lie, the kids only have to follow their adult role models. A current hit sitcom, Malcolm in the Middle (Fox, 3/00), featured teenager Francis lying that he's homosexual to gain admission to the dressing room at a teen beauty contest. Zoey, teenage daughter in Cybill (CBS, 3/97), stole popcorn and candy for her mom Cybill, the series star, and grandma when they came to the theater where Zoey worked at the snack bar.
Teen cheating and lying were common as early as the mid-1980s, e.g. Matt Burton was a 14-year-old character in It's Your Move, an NBC family sitcom from Norman Lear's Embassy Productions. Matt and his friends had a thriving business selling term papers, test answers, hall passes and doctors' notes.
These examples are but a scattering of what could be offered to document that prime-time TV, comedies in particular, makes light of lying, cheating, and stealing, and there is hardly ever a price to pay.
What is the ultimate impact? What will be left of honesty and civil society--anything at all? Will a culture based on lies endure?
Shellabarger says, "When it has leveled everything, fire burns itself out, and so does a lie." A mind which feeds on a regular diet of deceit will eventually burn itself out, and there will be no moral base left.
How much better will we serve ourselves, our minds, our families and our culture if we heed Paul's words in Philippians 4:8: "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things."