Lt. Commander Data has wowed fans for almost 40 years with his super-human strength, childlike naivete, artistic pursuits, and legendary boning skills. But one thing Data simply cannot do, is tell a decent lie. In season 4 episode 14 “Clues” Data does his best to protect the crew from the truth of a (minor) mystery, and in the process he tells some of the most transparent lies ever recorded on video tape. His word salad explanations sound like technobabble even to the other senior officers. Geordi is offended, frankly, both by the lies and their increasing implausibility. Eventually the mystery is solved (without Data’s help) his lies are revealed to have noble origins, and as the 45-minute mark approaches all is calm once more on the bridge of the Enterprise-D.

In an effort to provide assistance to the Alpha Quadrant’s favorite artificial intelligence on his quest towards humanity, I created a handy-dandy guide to lying. I call it:

Sam’s Handy-Dandy Guide to Lying

I drank myself to sleep every night for 10 years. That level of dedication requires a lot of lying. Friends, family, and coworkers are all obstacles to overcome on your journey into alcoholism (or whatever goal you’ve set for yourself). These guidelines were crafted from years of experimentation, and are designed to keep you from facing consequences for as long as possible. Study them well.

Consistency Is Key

A wise Cardassian once said that the key to subterfuge is to never tell the same lie twice. With respect to simple tailors throughout the galaxy, he’s dead wrong.

In my experience, the simplest, most straightforward way to avoid detection is to tell the same lie to everyone.

Say you wake up and, instead of going to your job teaching children to read, you decide to play hooky and drink all day. In order to black out before noon, you call school and say you’ve got a stomach bug. 

After a three-hour whiskey nap, you don’t feel much like going out on date night with your girlfriend. So you text her and complain about the same stomach bug.

Is your girlfriend ever going to speak to your principal about why you called out sick that day? Probably not, but now you’ve told two lies and only need to remember one.

“Stomach bug” is a great go-to lie, by the way. Especially because the next morning when you wake up hungover, you WON’T BE LYING when you call grandma and say you’re too sick to come celebrate her 75th birthday.

And on the off-chance your grandmother, girlfriend, and principal all run into each other at Kroger, they’ll all “know” you were sick.

Try This Lie: “I’m sure it's just a 24-hour thing. I’ll be there next time.”

Keep It Simple

You may be tempted to add details to make your lies seem fuller and more true, but all you’re doing is adding variables you can’t control. Every specificity you add to a lie is an opportunity to be caught. When crafting a lie, remember to Just Say No:

1. No Names - Don’t include other people in your lie. If asked, they won’t be able to corroborate your story. (Also they’ll probably be pretty steamed that you lied about them.)

2. No Public Events - “I saw Elton John at Rupp Arena. He did three encores, I didn’t get home until after midnight!” That’s great hon, except Stacey was there too and she says he sang Goodbye Yellow Brick Road at 9:45 and called it quits.

3. No Verifiable Details - I once made the mistake of saying that I was seeing a movie alone. Plausible enough, but when my girlfriend pointed out the movie in question wasn’t in theaters anymore, my goose was cooked.

Try This Lie: “I turned my phone off and went to bed early.”

Proportional Response

Before you decide on a lie, consider what you’re trying to accomplish. If all you want is to simply be left alone on a Wednesday night so that you can sit at your kitchen table, hunched over the dim screen of an overheated Chromebook, watching The West Wing on Netflix for the 32nd time, while draining a bottle of Old Crow with the help of some Diet Canada Dry and day-old pizza, go with something easily resolvable - you don’t need to claim COVID for an evening alone.

Try This Lie: “Aggh! I double-booked myself. My bad. Raincheck?”

Don’t Tempt Fate

“My grandmother died” is a very popular lie, particularly when one needs several days away from…whoever, perhaps for some unsanctioned interstate travel. I myself relied heavily on this trope throughout my 20s when I was living in New York and needed to get away from the city…until my grandmother actually died. It didn’t phase me when she passed, we didn’t have much of a relationship, but my other grandmother (the one whose 75th birthday I missed) loves me a ton and is very much alive so I don’t use that as an excuse anymore, for hopefully obvious reasons.

Try This Lie: “My cousin is getting married.”

Remember To Justify

When you are forced to lie it’s always recommended that you take time to justify it to yourself. I used to believe that my family WOULD RATHER ME LIE to them than tell the truth, particularly when the truth was “I thought about it and decided instead of coming to Mom’s for Christmas I’d rather see how quickly I can drink a handle of bourbon by myself.”

Try This Lie: “I’ve got everything under control.”

When You Are Caught

All liars are eventually caught. Well before they call you on it, the people in your life will know you are lying. On a long enough timeline, even the most practiced fibbers will develop a predictable pattern or get caught in a contradiction. Your loved ones and co-workers might compare notes more closely as your absences become increasingly frequent. If you’re not careful you’ll find yourself the subject of an intervention or, even worse, a professional improvement plan.

The best bet is to come clean. No more denials, no more evasions, just embrace the intense relief you’ll feel when the other shoe has finally dropped and the truth cannot be avoided - there is no more hiding, and in that there is immense freedom.

Don’t just admit to the lie, admit to the WHY. No one lies for the hell of it, we lie to hide the truth, to save our egos, to get what we want. When you admit that your mountain of lies adds up to nothing more than a slavish devotion to the oblivion only offered by bottom-shelf bourbon, they will pit you.

Once they pity you, ask them for money.