This is Hidden Brain. I'm Shankar Vedantam.

It's a story that is familiar to every American.

A young George Washington chops down his father's prized cherry tree.

When his father confronts him about the deed, young George doesn't hide.

He doesn't deflect. He doesn't minimize.

I cannot tell a lie, he says.

I did cut it.

Instead of scolding him, George's father embraces him.

He declares that his son's honesty is worth more than a thousand trees.

This tale, first popularized in the early 19th century, is one of America's most cherished moral parables.

It's Washington's birthday and the truthful he of the cherry tree would look down on me and frown.

It celebrates honesty and the courage that often accompanies it.

Yet the story's enduring power rests on a deep irony.

The parable is almost certainly a fabrication,

a lie invented to teach the importance of telling the truth.

The myth makers behind the story believe that fiction could serve a higher truth,

that people might be inspired to be truthful by the story of a hero who could not tell a lie.

The story of George Washington and the Cherry Tree reminds us that the motivations behind honesty and deception are rarely straightforward.

Lies can sometimes uphold moral ideals, and truths can sometimes be wielded to wound.

Today on the show, Anne, in a companion episode on Hidden Brain Plus,

can engaging in deception ever be the right thing to do?

The Psychology of Good Lies.

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