Ethical Lying

I have just encountered a situation today where I would likely have ended up having to tell lies in order to protect the privacy of my clients.  Let me explain here.  My employer is a major health care provider and we have a strict, almost draconian policy of confidentiality.  No one outside of our continuity of care is allowed to know anything about our clients: not their names, where they live, their taste in music or what they had for breakfast today.  I am always interacting with my clients out in the community and I know quite a few people in this town, so, you might imagine that there is always the risk of conflict of interest occurring.
     I have to work assiduously at keeping my mouth shut  because sometimes just one careless word can slip out of my mouth and then it's schnitzel for you, Tootsie!  (does anyone know the origin of that saying, by the way.  Give me a sec' while I ask Uncle Google.)
   
     I'm back.  I didn't get anything about who first said it's schnitzel for you, Tootsie, but I did come across the blog (written in English) of a Mexican Jewish woman now living in LA talking about her privileged upbringing (well, she had a nanny and lived in a wealthy neighbourhood) and her adventures with Mexican street food in Chapultepec Park and her love of schnitzel.  I think some of you know by now that I'm vegetarian.  It is chicken schnitzel that she writes about.  I am only familiar with the veal variety: that's right, the meat harvested from abused calves slaughtered while still young for their unnaturally tender meat which is later pounded with a mallet to produce schnitzel for you, Tootsie.
     Don't ask me who the heck is this chick named Tootsie.  Okay, time for another consultation with dear Uncle Google.

     I'm baaaaaack!  Okay, here are my findings from the Urban Dictionary:

 toots

Term of endearment roughly equivalent to baby. 

Note: Only applicable if you live in a black and white movie.

Him: Hiya, toots, whaddya say we blow this joint and head over to the speakeasy? 
Her: And how!

bimbo

A girl who is stupid, wears lots of make up and is obsessed with boys and clothes. Generally blonde but there are exceptions. Usually hang around  with other bimbos. You can spot them because they will be the big group of girls that all look the same and are giggling hysterically.

Oh no! I broke a nail! This is awful! 
You're such a bimbo.

and another one:

Paris Hilton

Like Kansas, flat, white and easy to enter

  Don't you just love the Urban Dictionary?  I sure do.  But how can you tell that it's late, I'm tired and likely lacking in good judgement as I write this shit.

So, if I were to break my oath of confidentiality in my job concerning any of my clients I would be behaving just like a dumb bimbo without judgement and fully deserving of the pounding that would be waiting for me.

I have just been turned down for an art show in a cafe where I happen to bring some of my clients during their stay in a neighbourhood psychiatric facility.  I have developed a relationship with the establishment, and with the owner and staff and one could say that our rapport is warm and cordial.  Recently I was offered wall space by the fellow who poses as art agent there.  As far as I know, no one there knows about what I do for a living, nor of the nature of my relationship with my clients, nor necessarily that they are people living with mental illness.  Whether or not they have figured it out, and I suspect that they have, given that at least one of the members of the agent's artistic circle has previously been a client of mine and is not particularly known for being discreet, as far as I am concerned they know nothing and neither am I going to disclose if I am asked.

I was given the blessing of my bosses at the psychiatric facility to hang my art in this cafe even though I still had some lurking qualms about the possible conflict of interest.  In twenty-twenty hindsight, I can say that I am relieved that this cancellation has occurred, if in an unjust manner.  Now I will not be put in any position to have to lie to anyone who should ask me there exactly why I come in on Tuesday mornings and Friday afternoons, always at the same time, and usually with different people, many of whom are not looking their best.

And the fact of the matter is this:  if I am asked anything that could compromise my clients' confidentiality when asked about them by an ignorant third party, and silence and evasiveness would be interpreted as a yes, then I certainly will lie to protect them.  I have done so in the past, and if I ever have to in the future I will lie again to protect them.

Otherwise, I always try to tell the truth.  Well, almost always.