An Honest Mistake?

Lying is the subject of the great national debate of the day. Is there ever a case when lying is the best policy?

V Addeman of Costa Mesa still sides with telling the truth, though it recently got him in trouble. What disturbs him, he says, is that the official to whom he told the truth suggested he could have avoided his problems if he’d just lied to begin with. Here’s his “lying” anecdote:

Addeman, 43, lost his job as an accountant last year when he had trouble adjusting to some of the changes in his assignment. By his own admission, he never liked the work.

What Addeman had always wanted to do was teach English. He loved the subject; he was an English major when he graduated from Cal State Fullerton in 1987.

So Addeman last year sought junior high teaching credentials from a local college that catered to what it calls “mid-career adults.” It had an accelerated program that would permit him to complete his classwork and his student teaching in just one year. Addeman was in a hurry to start his new career and earn a paycheck.

Addeman completed all his work two months ago. Now what he needed from his new college was a letter verifying that he had met its requirements. That was so he could get a job pending his state certification, which officials in Sacramento have verified takes a minimum of six months.

His college, however, wouldn’t cooperate.

There is a section on the state application, submitted through the college, where the graduate is asked a series of seven conduct questions. One of them is: “Have you ever been fired for misconduct, had your teaching credentials pulled before, or been convicted of a felony or misdemeanor?”

Addeman answered “yes” to that last one. In 1975, when he was 19, Addeman received a speeding ticket here in Orange County. What he did after that, he says, “was moronic.” He ignored the ticket. Just hoped it would mysteriously disappear.

As you might expect, a bench warrant eventually caught up with him, and he had to spend a night in jail before he could pay off his fines for speeding and failure to appear in court.

Next to his “yes” response to that question on the state application was an “Explain” box, where he outlined what happened.

But that didn’t help him. A spokeswoman at the college said the California Commission on Teacher Credentialing asks that it not even forward any application with any “yes” answers to any of those seven conduct questions. So certainly the college wouldn’t give him the letter he needed pending state certification.

Addeman says an official at the college explained why, saying that the school did not have the resources to verify that his written explanation was the truth.

Incredibly, Addeman says, he also was told by the official as an aside, “Don’t ever answer ‘yes’ to any of those” conduct questions. Then, he says, the official suggested that, because Addeman’s crime was so minor, he should just resubmit his form with a “no” answer on the misdemeanor conviction question.

In other words, just lie about it. If we don’t have the resources to verify the truth behind your “yes” answer, we don’t have the resources to check whether your “no” was the truth.

I haven’t mentioned the name of the college because officials there are screaming “unfair.” None of its personnel would ever say such a thing, they argue. The spokeswoman told me: “That’s a dismissal offense. We’re talking about heavy-duty language here.”

Of course, nobody would say that officially to an applicant. But I can easily see a college bureaucrat noting how minor Addeman’s offense was and suggesting--off the record--that he fudge a little.

You wonder how often that kind of fudging goes on. Something similar happened to me.

Not long ago I filled out a loan application on behalf of my wife and myself. One question on the application required seeking some very old documents from my native Indiana about a similar loan there. The two professionals helping us asked me to fill out a duplicate application, but on this one I would give a different answer to that question. That would negate needing those Indiana papers. We would submit this second application, they explained, only if the proper authorities in Indiana failed to find the needed documents.

I asked rather innocently, “But wouldn’t that be lying?”

Not at all, I was told. This is an extremely minor piece of paperwork that’s not worth holding up your application. They told me: “If the government ever asks you about it, you just say, ‘I didn’t understand the question’ or ‘I thought that question only applied to California.’ ”

Lie because it’s minor.

Fortunately, the Indiana documents arrived in time. I never had to submit my substitute application with the lie. Would I have done so? I’m just glad the situation didn’t come up.

A neighbor of mine told me he had quit his job with a real estate firm a few years ago because it had become commonplace in the office to lie on written forms that the government required.

Does lying just come easily for some people?

The kicker on the Addeman anecdote is, his “truthful” statement turned out to be the lie. Addeman had misread that the misdemeanor question only applied to the last five years. He’s in the clear--but now he has to start all over. And he says he’s sticking to the truth, whatever the consequences.

His wife, Leslie Cox, wrote to me about it, wondering if there was a lesson in all this. In light of events in Washington, maybe there is. A lie is a lie is a lie--unless you decide it’s not a big enough lie to count.

Jerry Hicks’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Readers may reach Hicks by calling the Times Orange County Edition at (714) 966-7823 or by fax to (714) 966-7711, or e-mail to jerry.hicks@latimes.com