The Strange Value of Honesty
Honesty seems to have become one of the most undervalued qualities in modern society.
On one side, people appear terrified of being honest. They fear offending someone, being challenged, upsetting the status quo, or simply facing uncomfortable consequences. On the other side are those who speak without thought, confusing bluntness with honesty, delivering opinions without care for accuracy or impact.
Somewhere between those two extremes lies genuine honesty. It is neith
er reckless nor timid. It is simply the willingness to acknowledge reality, even when reality is inconvenient.
Recently, I found myself reflecting on this during a recorded Town Council meeting. During the discussion, it was stated that plaques are not put on walls for individuals, despite the view that Stella Smedley perhaps deserved one.
As I sat listening, I immediately thought of the plaque hanging proudly upstairs in the boardroom. Ironically, that plaque was donated by Stella herself to Ollerton and Boughton Town Council and has occupied its place on the wall for years.
So what do we call that contradiction?
Was it ignorance? A blatant untruth? A statement made in the hope that nobody would notice? Or was it simply a lack of awareness?
What surprised me most was not the statement itself but the fact that so many councillors were present, some of whom have served for a considerable length of time. Not one correction was offered.
Of course, if this were an isolated incident, it would be easy to dismiss. We all make mistakes. Nobody has perfect recall, and honesty includes being able to admit when we are wrong.
The problem arises when inconsistencies become patterns.
The more I reflect on certain situations, the more I notice these small pieces of significance. Tiny contradictions. Selective recollections. Attempts to justify decisions after the fact rather than openly acknowledging errors. None of them are earth-shattering on their own, but together they slowly erode confidence.
Trust is not usually destroyed by one major event. More often, it is weakened by a hundred small moments where what is said does not quite align with what is observed.
This is perhaps why transparency matters so much.
Take my ongoing dealings with the Council's solicitor. I received an email on 20 August and responded the very same day. Since then, I have followed up numerous times seeking a response. I find myself wondering whether those involved fully understand what a Subject Access Request is and the importance of responding appropriately.
Interestingly, during the most recent Town Council meeting, there was discussion involving the Information Commissioner's Office. Yet meaningful engagement and answers remain elusive.
Again, it all comes back to honesty.
Why is it so difficult to simply say:
We got that wrong.
We need more time.
We don't know.
We overlooked something.
There is far more credibility in admitting a mistake than in attempting to defend the indefensible.
The Consequences of Dishonesty in Governance
Perhaps what concerns me most is that the consequences of dishonesty extend far beyond a single statement or meeting.
When those in positions of authority fail to acknowledge mistakes, the damage spreads.
Public trust begins to erode. People start questioning not only the statement that was made, but every statement that follows. If an organisation cannot be trusted to be accurate about small matters, how can it be trusted on larger ones?
Poor governance often follows poor honesty. Decisions can only be as good as the information they are based upon. If facts are ignored, altered, or selectively presented, meaningful scrutiny becomes impossible.
A culture of self-protection can also emerge. Instead of focusing on what is right, energy becomes focused on defending previous decisions. The original issue is forgotten as people become invested in preserving reputations rather than pursuing truth.
Accountability suffers too. Transparency is essential to public service. When questions go unanswered, records are difficult to obtain, or responses are repeatedly delayed, people naturally begin to wonder what is being hidden, even when incompetence rather than intent may be the cause.
The most worrying consequence, however, is cynicism.
People begin to lose faith not only in individual councillors, officers, or organisations, but in authority itself.
They begin to ask:
If they cannot admit a simple mistake, what else are they unwilling to admit?
If evidence is presented but ignored, what value does accountability really have?
If transparency is promised but not practiced, why should the public trust the process?
Most people do not expect perfection from public bodies. We understand that mistakes happen. We understand that people are human.
What people do expect is honesty.
The remarkable thing is that admitting an error rarely damages credibility. In many cases, it strengthens it. An honest acknowledgement of a mistake demonstrates integrity, maturity, and a commitment to improvement.
The refusal to acknowledge a mistake often does exactly the opposite.
Restoring Trust
Trust is built on honesty, not perfection.
It is built when leaders are willing to say, "We got this wrong."
It is built when organizations respond openly to questions rather than avoiding them.
It is built when facts matter more than narratives.
Perhaps this is why honesty feels so important and yet so rare today. The truth is not always comfortable. It may require apology, correction, or humility. But without it, governance becomes performance rather than service, accountability becomes theatre rather than scrutiny, and trust slowly disappears.
In a world increasingly filled with carefully managed messaging and defensive positions, simple honesty can feel almost revolutionary.
And perhaps that is exactly why it remains one of the most valuable qualities of all.
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