(HOST) Once again congress is trying to determine if lies were told to cover up a questionable political ploy. And that's reminded commentator Willem Lange of some valuable lessons he learned about lying - in the third grade.

(LANGE) We all lie. We may not think we do, but science has determined otherwise. A spouse asks how we like the outfit. A fish grows in size in repetitions of the story. We attempt to evade responsibility for putting colored fabrics into the wash with delicates. Lies become more serious during traffic stops, or when we neglect to declare some income, or claim deductions more imaginary than provable.

Now, most of us lie to avoid the unpleasant results of telling the truth and taking our medicine. It's almost a reflex. We lie even though we know the result is likely to outweigh the penalty for the initial mistake. As political scandal managers will attest, the coverup invariably has worse repercussions than the original transgression.

Consider the pickle that former President Bill Clinton got himself into by first denying, and then mischaracterizing his relationship with Ms. Lewinsky. In many countries he wouldn't even have had to apologize - except to his wife. He wriggled his way into impeachment, not for the sexual escapades, but for lying.

But I'm not sure that, caught in the same situation, we'd behave any better.

In the third grade, for no reason that I can remember now, I wrote a note requesting early release from school for a dental appointment. The note passed muster. Then, like an idiot, I told my pal Carl Bates about the coup. Naturally, Carl squealed. Off I went to see the principal.

"Did you write this note?" he demanded.

"No," I lied. "My mother did."

Well," he said, "I've been looking at the handwriting, and I notice that the 'r's' are unusual." The jig was up. I'd been taught to write by someone who used the old German script. So I did my time after school, and never again wrote in that hand. I used a typewriter instead.

We currently have a mendacity crisis, not in the third grade, but in Washington. It isn't earthshaking: The Administration fired eight federal prosecutors for poor performance. No problem there; they serve at the pleasure of the President. But a couple of them charged they were let go because they didn't pursue cases whose outcomes might have been helpful to the GOP in the recent election.

Still no big deal. But for some reason, Attorney General Gonzales chose to deny the charges. Then e-mails appeared that contradicted his testimony, and he began to look less like a champion of justice than a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.

Fran ois Mianscum, a Cree trapper, once gave evidence about the effects of a road built by Hydro-Quebec through his territory. He was asked to place his hand on the Bible and swear to tell the truth. After some conversation, his translator looked up at the judge and said: "He does not know if he can tell the truth. He can tell only what he knows."

You suppose we could find Fran ois a government job?

This is Willem Lange up in East Montpelier, and I gotta get back to work.