Mike Daisey changed facts to improve his narrative. Dreher, who is writing a book about his late sister, sees value in loose ends:
It can be frustrating to be bound by the truth because there are times when I wish the story with my sister were more straightforward. But it turns out that these irritating bits that won’t allow me to tie up the narrative in a neat bow are actually essential to the story I’m telling.
Was the way she dealt with cancer an example of unambiguous courage, or did it require a degree of self-deception? That is, was what we all saw as raw courage really the product of Ruthie lying to herself about the seriousness of her own condition? Even the people closest to her aren’t totally sure — or at least they aren’t unanimous in their judgment. And if Ruthie did deceive herself to a certain extent about how sick she was, how is that not still courage? Is a firefighter who runs into a burning building to save children uncourageous if, in order to motivate himself to do his duty in conditions of almost certain death, he tells himself that he’s going to survive the ordeal before him?