Entry 139: On Deception, Nature, and Trust

 

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On Deception, Nature, and Trust:

A Review and Commentary on Lixing Sun’s The Liars of Nature and the Nature of Liars


 When I read The Liars of Nature and the Nature of Liars (Lixing Sun), I kept coming back to a simple idea. Deception is not rare in nature, it is part of how things work. It shows up in small, everyday ways across species, and it exists not as a mistake, but as a response to pressure. Throughout the book, the author shares examples of animals that mislead others in order to survive. Some disguise themselves to avoid being seen while others send signals that are not entirely true in order to gain time, space, or access to resources. In some cases, animals even take advantage of the communication systems of other species. Here is the deal, none of this is framed as unusual, these behaviors are presented as expected outcomes in environments where survival depends on gaining even the smallest of advantages. As I worked through the author’s examples, I found myself thinking less about the individual stories and more about the pattern behind them. The main idea is clear, if deception works, it stays. Over time, this creates a kind of back and forth between those who deceive and those who try to detect deception. Each side adjusts and each side learns. The result is not a fixed system, but one that continues to shift as new strategies emerge. That framing helped me move away from thinking about deception as something separate from normal behavior, instead, it felt more like one piece of a larger system of interaction.

I also spent time thinking about how these ideas connect to people. The book suggests human behavior may follow similar patterns, at least in part. That idea does not come across as an excuse for dishonesty, but it does challenge the way I think about it. It becomes less about labeling behavior as simply right or wrong, and more about understanding where it comes from and why it persists. In that sense, deception starts to feel less like an exception and more like something that must be managed within social systems. It made me also think about how this plays out at different scales. In smaller groups, it is easier to recognize patterns of behavior. People know each other and actions and behaviors are remembered. This allows for informal ways of holding others accountable. As groups grow larger, an informal system becomes harder. Distance increases and interactions become more frequent but less personal. In those settings, trust cannot rely only on relationships, it has to be supported by systems, rules, and structures that help limit and respond to deception. While the book does not focus heavily on this idea, it is a natural extension of the argument and one that continued to come to mind as I continued with the book.

 I found the book easy to follow, which made it accessible without losing its core message. The examples are clear and help carry the argument forward. At the same time, there were points where I wanted more depth, especially when the discussion moved toward human behavior. The connections are there, and they are worth considering, but they also open the door to questions that go beyond what is fully addressed by the author.  In the end, I was not entirely surprised (perhaps surprised I was not surprised?), instead, I walked away with a better understanding of something I had not fully thought through before. The author helped me see why deception continues to appear across both natural systems and human life. It also made me think more carefully about trust. Not as something that simply exists, but as something that has to be built, supported, and maintained, especially as systems become more complex.

As I sat with the ideas from The Liars of Nature and the Nature of Liars, I kept finding myself drifting back to my own work in natural resources, outdoor recreation, and outdoor tourism. Not in a dramatic way, but things I have seen over time that did not quite fit before, but started to make more sense when I looked at them through this newly focused lens. In outdoor recreation, we spend a lot of time talking about behavior. Visitor behavior, community behavior, even how professionals present information. And I think, if I am being honest, we often assume people will do what they say they will do. Or maybe more accurately, we hope they will. But that is not always what happens, right?

 

I think about something as simple as trail use. You can stand at a trailhead and see a sign that clearly asks people to stay on the path. Most people nod, maybe even agree with it. And then, not even a mile in, you start to see the side trails. Little cut throughs, sometimes called social trails, where people have stepped off just for a moment, maybe to save time or get a better view. No one thinks they are doing anything major, but over time those small choices add up. The trail widens, vegetation disappears, and suddenly you are managing something very different than what was intended. I am not sure I would call that deception or lying. It feels more like a gap. A gap between what we say we value and what we actually do in the moment. People believe in staying on the trail, but they also believe that one small step off probably does not matter. And that is where things start to unravel.

 

The same thing shows up in data. I have worked with surveys where we ask people about their behaviors. Leave No Trace practices, spending patterns, frequency of visits. And the responses are often… ideal. People report doing the right things! They say they pack out trash, stay on trails, support local businesses. And I believe many of them mean it when they say it. But then you go out into the field and see something a little different. There is trash left behind, trails expanded, and local businesses struggling in places where visitation is high. There is a gap there. Not always large, but noticeable. And it makes me think about how much of our work relies on trust. We trust the data. We trust the responses. We trust that people will follow guidelines if we explain them clearly enough. But if deception, even in small forms, is part of how behavior works, then maybe trust alone is not enough.

 

Visitors are not the only ones not living up to their words. I have also seen this play out in community settings. Places trying to present themselves as something they are not, or at least not fully. A small town might market itself as an outdoor destination, highlighting its best features while downplaying limitations. And I understand why, there is pressure to compete, to attract visitors, to create opportunity. But sometimes the image and the experience do not fully line up. Visitors notice, perhaps not right away, but over time.

 

Again, I do not think this is always intentional. It is just part of the process. The pressures of behaving a certain way. The pressure of enhancing a local economic portfolio. I will say again, none of this feels surprising, in fact, it feels familiar. The author did not introduce something new as much as it gave me a perspective about what was already there. It also makes me wonder if, as professionals, we spend too much time trying to eliminate these behaviors instead of understanding them. We design programs assuming people will follow through exactly as intended. We create messaging that assumes full compliance. And when that does not happen, we treat it as a failure rather than something to plan for. Maybe not all programs and messages, but I would dare say a majority.  Maybe a better approach is to expect a certain level of inconsistency and design systems that can handle it. For example, instead of only telling people to stay on trails, we might think more about how trails are built and maintained in ways that naturally guide movement. Instead of relying only on self-reported data, we combine it with observation or other forms of verification (there are folks/studies doing this). I not positioning this because I believe people are intentionally misleading us, but because behavior is not always as clean as we would like it to be. I do not have a perfect answer here, obviously, but it is rolling around in my mind as I think about the book, my profession, and my behaviors.

 

But I do think this, if deception is part of how natural and human systems function, then it is something we have to account for, not ignore. This is not cynical, but practical. This is something that shapes how we design spaces, collect information, and interact with the people we serve.  And maybe, in doing that, planning for reality, we are not reducing trust. Maybe we are actually protecting it, even if it does not always feel that way in the moment. The question is not how to remove deception, but how to work within it while still holding on to the trust that makes all of this possible. I would recommend this book to anyone who spends time thinking about people, behavior, and how systems actually work.

 

Source Citation: Lixing Sun. (2023). The Liars of Nature and the Nature of Liars. Oxford University Press.

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