Kerre Woodham: When it's a good time to lie

When I saw Helen Clark at the opening of the SkyCity Grand Hotel last week, she smiled wryly and said, "I know what you'll be writing your column on this week."

Damn right. John Tamihere's extraordinarily intemperate stream of consciousness has provided journalists, cartoonists and commentators with rich pickings. Even the woefully inadequate opposition parties had the opportunity to fire a few salvos in the House last week. Tamihere has given them some truly explosive missiles to hurl at previously impenetrable ministers.

A lot of people have come to Tamihere's defence and why not? He's a very likeable man, whose earthiness and blunt style of speech are a welcome change from political double-speak.

The John Tamihere Appreciation Society is claiming, in a sanctimonious fashion, that all Tamihere did was tell the truth and a man shouldn't be punished for being honest.

I beg to differ. He wasn't telling the truth. He was offering an opinion. He may have called Steve Maharey smarmy; others may see him as a smooth operator. Tamihere might think Chris Carter's a tosser, but I'm sure Carter's friends would offer a different character assessment. Tamihere might think the Government is run by a butch cabal of wimmin; others, like the testosterone-engorged Labour Party president, Mike Williams, might have a different view.

So when people claim Tamihere was only telling the truth, they're wrong. He was giving his opinion.

And what is this obsession with telling the truth anyway? I'm not sure I want to live in a world where telling the truth is compulsory. When you're asked by an acquaintance if you'd like to come for dinner, what's the best option? To say, "I'm so sorry, I can't make it as my child has a school performance," or "No thanks, you're boring, you have ghastly friends, your cooking is shite and your husband picks his teeth." When you meet a friend you haven't seen in a while, you don't say, "Bloody hell! Haven't you gone to the pack! What's happened to your self-respect, you fat cow?" When I ask my Irishman if he likes my new haircut, and he says it looks lovely when I know he wants to say it looks like all the cats in Grey Lynn have been sucking on it, I love him for caring enough to lie.

Lies, half-truths and evasions are the oil that keeps civilisation running smoothly. Most of us learn to keep our thoughts and opinions to ourselves around about the time we begin potty training. It's a sign of incredible immaturity, and, I'm sure the Remmers dowagers would believe, poor breeding, to just blurt out whatever it is you happen to be thinking - unless you're a talkback host, a newspaper columnist or a politician with an agenda.

If anyone can survive this furore, it's Tamihere. He's another Teflon-man in the mould of Winston Peters, whose wolfish grin and attractive demeanour have enabled him to rise Lazarus-like from many a political setback that would have kept less-charismatic men down.

I hope this current passion for truth telling doesn't extend to the wider population, because it would make for a very uncomfortable life for us all.