A Portrait of the Classical Bullshitter

Consider the following conversation:

Person #1: "Last night, I was listening to Beethoven's second bassoon concerto. It is so gorgeous. Do you know that piece?"
Person #2: "...why, yes! The second violin part in that piece is terrific. In fact, I think that is one of the most underrated gems in his entire oeuvre. But it runs a tad long, don't you think?"
Person #1: "Mmm."

Both of these people are being disingenuous. Neither of them has heard Beethoven’s bassoon concertos, because he didn't write any. But they are eager to impress each other with their knowledge of classical repertoire. So they pretend.

Person #1: “I think that Mozart’s 39th symphony is by far the best he ever wrote. I might even say it represents the pinnacle of European musical culture.  Don’t you agree?”
Person #2: “Oh, it’s wonderful all right, but I tend to prefer his 34th.”

In the process of bullshitting, people may use hyperbolic language (“terrific”, “gorgeous”) and make sweeping statements (“most underrated”, “by far the best”) to make it sound like they know what they’re talking about. This works because it seems less likely that a person who is passionate about a topic will lie about it. They may also posit some critical comments, but these remarks will be deliberately vague (“runs a tad long”, “tend to prefer ____”) so as to avoid being pressured into providing details.

The temptation to bullshit can be enormous because it’s embarrassing to be “caught” not knowing something you should. Faking it seems like an easy and harmless alternative…so long as you get away with it. But it’s impossible to be a hundred percent sure you’re in the clear. Maybe the other person has noticed the deception and is simply being polite. Or maybe you have made a grievous error in your description of the piece.

It is better to be direct and truthful. Contrast the earlier interactions with this one:

Person #1: “I was listening to an awesome piece by Beethoven last night. It was one of his symphonies.”
Person #2: “Can you remember which one it was?”
Person #1: “No…but I remember it had a story attached to it. And one of the movements depicted a storm.”
Person #2: “Oh, that’s the 6th, the ‘Pastoral’. Yeah, I love that piece.”
Person #1: “I know, right?”

This is a happier scene. Person #1 probably doesn't know the repertoire very well—Beethoven’s 6th symphony is a famous piece—but Person #2 fills the gap quickly and the two people are nonetheless on their way to an engaging discussion. This last example demonstrates what we miss out on when we pretend to know things: genuine intellectual growth, camaraderie and the pleasures of honest conversation.