An Extract from: Ten Pillars of Buddhism
From the section on the Fourth Precept

For Buddhism speech is important because it occupies an intermediate position between body and mind, or between action and thought, being neither so gross as the one nor so subtle as the other. It is because it occupies this intermediate position that it is so important to control speech – and also why it is so difficult to control it. It is important to control speech because speech is, in a sense, a form of action, i.e. a form of overt action, and as such takes its place in the external world and has consequences there both for oneself and for others. As the Dhammapada says with regard to one particular form of unskilful speech:

"Do not speak roughly to anyone: those thus spoken to will answer back. (Because) angry talk is extremely painful (to bear) you will experience retribution."

It is difficult to control speech because speech is, in a sense, not just thought indeed, but, for the speaker himself, so close to thought (after all, speech is only vocalized thought) that he often has difficulty in realizing that what he says is capable of producing tangible effects in the outside world and that speech ought, therefore, to be controlled. No doubt it is for this reason that in the formula of the ten precepts no fewer than four precepts out of ten are concerned with speech, whereas within the formula of the Noble Eightfold Path, only one 'member' out of eight is so concerned (though that member is, of course, divided into four).

Buddhist tradition also points out that speech can be controlled by paying systematic attention to what comes out of this 'door', as well as by observing periods of complete silence from time to time. (Vows of perpetual silence are not permitted in Buddhism, as hindering the propagation of the Dharma.)

For the vast majority of people the stream of speech is so constant and so uninterrupted, and so much under the influence of unskilful mental factors, many of them unconscious, that all four speech precepts are likely to be broken many times a day, every day of the week. Speech is therefore something about which all Buddhists are expected to be particularly careful.

'Abstention from false speech' can be practised without practising 'truthfulness', only by abstaining from speech itself altogether. But abstention from false speech is by no means enough. Like all the other precepts, the fourth precept must be observed in its positive form as well as in its negative form. When one says that speech is the principal vehicle of communication between man and man one is really speaking of truthful speech, and of truthful speech only.

Untruthful speech cannot be a vehicle of communication, so that in any human society in which untruthful speech predominates communication will break down. Without truthful speech there can be no civilization and culture; indeed, there can be no spiritual life and no spiritual community. Without truthfulness society itself cannot exist, so that whoever is guilty of false speech in fact undermines the foundations of society. A liar is an anti-social element – especially in a court of justice.

This is why telling lies in a court of justice when one has been called upon to speak the truth, is for Buddhism the paradigmatic form of false speech, just as speaking the truth in those circumstances is the paradigmatic form of truthfulness – as we saw in the case of the Buddha's teaching to Cunda the silversmith about the threefold cleansing. The bearing of false witness is such a terrible offence because it renders the administration of justice impossible, and if justice cannot be administered society ceases to be a moral order, the rule of right being replaced by the rule of might.

Bearing false witness is not the only form of false speech that undermines the foundations of society. George Orwell's Newspeak – indeed, any kind of insincere jargon – can have the same devastating effect. Confucius, when asked what he would put first if entrusted with the administration of a state, replied, 'the rectification of terms'. In similar vein, what Nietzsche appreciated most about Zarathustra (i.e. the real Zarathustra, not the product of his own philosophico-poetic imagination) was that his teaching upheld truthfulness as the supreme virtue. 'To tell the truth and to shoot well with arrows: that is Persian virtue', he tells us, as though these two things comprised both the law and the prophets. The Dhammapada says much the same thing, though in negative rather than positive terms, when it declares:

'There is no evil that cannot be done by a lying person, who has transgressed one precept, and who holds in contempt the world beyond.'

As if to say that a man who tells lies, and who does not recognize the existence of a higher world of moral and spiritual values, is capable of breaking every other precept.

One of the simplest yet most important forms of abstention from false speech and cultivation of truthfulness is that of factual accuracy. This consists in telling what one has seen, for example, or what one has heard, with scrupulous fidelity to the facts as they actually occurred, neither adding nor subtracting anything, nor exaggerating or minimizing anything, and without failing to recount any relevant circumstances. The observance of the fourth precept even in this limited sense is extremely difficult, and there is no doubt that we need to school ourselves in factual accuracy much more rigorously if we are to have any hope of observing this precept in its subtle, refined, and advanced forms. On numerous occasions I have been both astonished and dismayed at the careless manner in which some of my own remarks have been reported, or verbal messages delivered, even by those from whom I had reason to expect greater scrupulousness in this regard.

Such carelessness can be not only a source of general uncertainty and confusion but also of serious misunderstanding between one person and another. In repeating to one person what has been said by another one cannot, therefore, take too much trouble to ensure that one repeats what was said, and repeats it in such a way as to convey both the spirit and the letter of the other person's utterance,...

When we speak the truth we do, of course, expect to be believed, since otherwise no communication can take place. Similarly, we should believe others when they speak the truth. Next to killing someone, perhaps the worst possible thing you can do to them is not to believe them when they are speaking the truth. Not to believe someone when they are speaking the truth negates their identity as a social being and disrupts human solidarity. Such disbelief is, in fact, an act of violence.

It is not enough, therefore, that we should speak the truth: we should also believe others when they speak it – especially within the spiritual community. This means that we shall have to develop sufficient awareness and sensitivity to tell when another person really is speaking the truth, since otherwise we may unintentionally do them a great wrong.