There Are Three Kinds of Lies: Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics

“There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics.”

This famous quote has become a cultural touchstone. People use it to express skepticism about numerical data. However, the saying’s true origins remain surprisingly murky.

Most people credit Mark Twain with this clever observation. Source Others point to Benjamin Disraeli, the Victorian-era British Prime Minister. Nevertheless, Neither attribution holds up under historical scrutiny.

The phrase actually evolved through decades of modifications. Different versions targeted various groups before settling on statistics. Understanding this evolution reveals fascinating insights about how quotations spread and transform.

Ancient Roots of Categorizing Deception

Philosophers have long classified different types of lies. This intellectual tradition stretches back centuries. Medieval scholars devoted serious attention to moral gradations of dishonesty.

Thomas Aquinas examined falsehood extensively in his “Summa Theologica.” The 13th-century theologian explored whether lies could be divided into three categories. His proposed divisions included officious lies, jocose lies, and mischievous lies. Ultimately, Aquinas rejected this framework. He developed an alternative classification system instead.

Francis Bacon also contributed to this tradition. The English philosopher died in 1626, but his ideas endured. In his essay “Simulation and Dissimulation,” Bacon outlined three progressive degrees of deception. First came closeness and secrecy, where people concealed their true nature. Second was dissimulation, where individuals actively suggested they were something different. Third was simulation, where people explicitly pretended to be what they were not.

Alfred Nevin published religious commentary in 1874. His work on the Book of Exodus identified three lie categories. Malicious lies aimed to cause harm. Jocose lies served entertainment purposes. Officious lies supposedly benefited others. Each category carried different moral weight.

Expert Witnesses Become Targets

The modern version first emerged in legal contexts. Early versions criticized expert witnesses rather than statistics. This shift reflected growing public skepticism about courtroom testimony.

The Times of London published a key version on April 4, 1882. A prominent judge supposedly classified liars into three groups. Ordinary liars formed the first category. Great liars comprised the second. Scientific witnesses occupied the worst position. This formulation expressed unease about technical specialists in courts.

The Saturday Review offered a different perspective in May 1885. The publication declared that bragging was problematic. Fibs proved worse. However, combining bragging with fibs represented the worst situation. The journal applied this observation to criticize Liberationist statistics.

In June 1885, The Accountant periodical presented another variation. An expert in a sewage case described a polluted river as having crystalline purity. Opposing counsel supposedly explained three types of liars existed. Common liars appeared everywhere. Damnable liars rarely surfaced in decent society. Furthermore, expert witnesses surpassed both categories in mendacity.

Nature journal printed a similar version in November 1885. A lawyer elevated to the judiciary grouped witnesses into three classes. Simple liars formed one category. Damned liars comprised another. Experts occupied the final position. The journal clarified that experts didn’t deliberately lie. Instead, their emphasis and evasion created worse effects than outright falsehood.

Variations Spread Across Publications

The Central Law Journal published a sanitized version on April 9, 1886. The St. Louis publication replaced “damned” with dashes. A distinguished judge identified three kinds of liars. The categories included liars, dashed liars, and experts. The journal acknowledged the observation was sound, if profane.

Interestingly, The Kansas Law Journal printed a different target on April 10, 1886. This version criticized lawyers instead of experts. A judge supposedly identified lawyers, liars, and experts as three distinct categories. This modification demonstrated the template’s adaptability.

The Medical and Surgical Reporter referenced the 1882 Times article in 1888. The Philadelphia publication noted an English judge’s classification. Liars, great liars, and scientific witnesses formed the three categories. This version continued circulating years after its initial appearance.

The Pall Mall Gazette reported another instance on August 12, 1889. An eminent judge expressed opinions about paid witnesses. Three categories existed: liars, dashed liars, and experts. The publication suggested the Maybrick case influenced this opinion. Expert testimony had primarily decided that case.

Statistics Enter the Picture

The crucial transformation occurred on June 13, 1891. The National Observer of London published a letter from T. Mackay. This represented the first known instance mentioning statistics. The letter described three kinds of falsehood. Fibs formed the first category. Downright lies comprised the second. Statistics represented the most aggravated form.

Significantly, the attribution remained anonymous. This suggested the formulation already circulated as folk wisdom. No specific originator received credit. The saying had begun its transformation from criticizing experts to targeting statistics.

The Preston Herald printed a virtually identical statement on June 27, 1891. The Lancashire publication presented the same three categories. Fibs, downright lies, and statistics formed the hierarchy. This rapid spread demonstrated the phrase’s growing popularity.

Eliza Gutch published an inquiry on October 10, 1891. The prominent English folklorist wrote to Notes and Queries. She asked readers to identify the original source. Three degrees of falsehood existed: fibs, lies, and statistics. This inquiry proved the saying had achieved sufficient circulation. However, even then, the originator remained uncertain.

Politicians Adopt the Expression

Charles Dilke attended a protest meeting on October 14, 1891. The English politician spoke to slate quarrymen in Wales. The Morning Post reported his remarks the following day. Dilke discussed the Church Congress while supporting boards of conciliation. He observed that three degrees of untruth existed. Fibs formed the first category. Lies comprised the second. Statistics occupied the final position.

Other newspapers quickly picked up the story. The South Wales Echo published the same quotation on October 15, 1891. The Bristol Mercury credited Dilke on October 19, 1891. False statements could be arranged according to degree. Three heads existed: fibs, lies, and statistics.

A letter in The Yorkshire Post attributed the saying to Charles Stewart Parnell on October 28, 1891. The Irish politician supposedly created this dictum. The letter discussed methodological issues regarding counting Catholic service attendees. This attribution demonstrated the quote’s continued evolution.

The British Medical Journal published a significant letter on November 7, 1891. The letter attributed the saying to Mark Twain. This represents an early Twain attribution. However, it appeared in reader correspondence rather than verified statements. Twain supposedly classified falsehood under three heads: fibs, lies, and statistics.

Recognition of Evolution

Robert Giffen delivered a paper in January 1892. The statistician spoke at the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science. His remarks demonstrated remarkable awareness. An old jest targeted liars in three degrees. Ordinary liars formed one category. Outrageous liars comprised another. Scientific experts occupied the worst position.

Giffen noted the saying had recently adapted. People now targeted statistics instead of experts. Three degrees existed: lies, outrageous lies, and statistics. Consequently, statisticians could laugh at jests made at their expense. His observation provides valuable contemporary evidence. People in the early 1890s recognized the transformation.

Arthur James Balfour used the expression on June 28, 1892. The British politician spoke in Manchester, England. The Leeds Mercury reported his remarks the following day. Balfour dealt with statistics from his opponent, Professor Munro. He stated three kinds of unveracity existed. Lies formed one category. Damned lies comprised another. Statistics occupied the final position.

The Pall Mall Gazette credited Balfour in July 1892. The London publication referenced Balfour’s categories when discussing Unionist papers. Lies, damned lies, and statistics formed the hierarchy. This demonstrated the phrase’s growing acceptance among political figures.

Disraeli Attribution Emerges

The Standard of London published a letter in July 1895. W. P. Treloar attributed the saying to Lord Beaconsfield. Benjamin Disraeli had received this title after his elevation. Treloar wrote that Lord Beaconsfield identified three degrees of veracity. Lies formed one category. Dashed lies comprised another. Statistics occupied the final position.

The Times of London printed the same letter on July 27, 1895. This represented the first known attribution to Disraeli. However, Disraeli had died in 1881. No evidence from his lifetime supports this attribution. The claim appeared fourteen years after his death.

The Sun of New York City also attributed the expression to Disraeli in August 1895. The Earl of Beaconsfield supposedly said three grades of veracity existed. This American publication helped spread the Disraeli attribution. Nevertheless, no contemporaneous evidence supported the claim.

Twain’s Influential Statement

Mark Twain published a crucial installment in 1907. His autobiography appeared in The North American Review. Twain wrote that figures often beguiled him. This proved especially true when he arranged them himself. He then referenced a remark attributed to Disraeli.

Twain quoted what he presented as Disraeli’s words. Three kinds of lies existed: lies, damned lies, and statistics. This attribution proved enormously influential. Twain’s immense literary reputation carried tremendous weight. His widespread readership accepted the Disraeli attribution. Moreover, many people began crediting Twain himself with the phrase.

Twain never claimed to originate the saying. He explicitly attributed it to Disraeli. However, his statement cemented both attributions in popular consciousness. People began believing either Twain or Disraeli coined the phrase. Historical evidence contradicts both claims.

Understanding the True Origins

The comprehensive historical record reveals important truths. No single creator can be accurately credited with this quotation. Instead, the expression represents evolutionary development. Numerous contributors made incremental modifications over decades.

Earliest versions appeared in the 1880s. These targeted expert witnesses and scientific testimony. Victorian-era anxieties about technical expertise drove these formulations. Courts increasingly relied on specialist testimony. Public skepticism grew accordingly.

The crucial innovation appeared around 1891. Statistics replaced experts as the target. Even then, the formulation circulated anonymously. No clear attribution existed. This suggests organic cultural development rather than individual creation.

Eliza Gutch and Mark Twain both employed versions. Neither claimed to have originated it. Gutch explicitly sought the source. Twain attributed it to Disraeli. Charles Dilke and Arthur James Balfour used instances publicly. However, matching statements already existed. Therefore, they cannot be credited with origination.

The Power of Attribution

The Disraeli attribution became widely accepted. Mark Twain’s influential endorsement drove this acceptance. However, no supporting evidence exists from Disraeli’s lifetime. The attribution represents posthumous assignment rather than historical fact.

This evolution provides fascinating insights. Quotations develop, mutate, and eventually attach to famous individuals. Actual authorship becomes irrelevant. The basic template proved remarkably adaptable. Different groups could be inserted as targets. Expert witnesses, lawyers, medical experts, and statistics all occupied the worst position at various times.

Future researchers will likely uncover additional citations. These may further clarify the complex evolutionary history. However, current evidence supports clear conclusions. The maxim emerged organically from late Victorian culture. It reflected widespread skepticism about expert testimony and statistical manipulation.

Lessons About Quotation Attribution

This case study teaches valuable lessons. Famous quotations rarely have simple origins. Cultural evolution often produces memorable phrases. Individual authorship represents a convenient fiction. People prefer attributing clever observations to famous individuals.

The saying’s adaptability ensured its survival. Different versions served different purposes. Legal professionals criticized expert witnesses. Politicians targeted statistical manipulation. Each adaptation reinforced the basic template. Consequently, the phrase spread rapidly across contexts.

Modern researchers must approach quotation attribution carefully. Popular belief often contradicts historical evidence. Even contemporary attributions can prove unreliable. The saying circulated for years before any Disraeli attribution appeared. Yet this attribution became accepted fact through repetition.

Conclusion

The famous quotation about lies and statistics has no single author. Neither Mark Twain nor Benjamin Disraeli originated the phrase. Instead, it evolved through decades of cultural transmission. Early versions targeted expert witnesses in Victorian courtrooms. The crucial substitution of statistics appeared around 1891.

This evolution reflects broader cultural anxieties. Victorian society struggled with increasing technical complexity. Expert testimony challenged traditional legal processes. Statistical analysis seemed to obscure rather than illuminate truth. The saying captured these concerns perfectly.

Ultimately, the quotation’s power lies in its adaptability. The basic template allows endless variations. Different targets can occupy the position of worst offender. This flexibility ensured the phrase’s endurance. Today, it remains a cultural touchstone for expressing skepticism about numerical manipulation.

The lesson extends beyond this single quotation. Many famous sayings have similarly complex origins. Popular attribution often masks evolutionary development. Understanding these processes enriches our appreciation of how ideas spread through culture. It also reminds us to question convenient narratives about authorship and originality.