"I suppose I shouldn't go around admitting I speak untruths on the radio"
About this Quote
There is a whole ethic tucked inside that coy little “I suppose.” Ira Glass isn’t confessing to fraud so much as staging a miniature morality play about credibility in public. The line works because it sounds like a casual aside while quietly admitting the central tension of broadcast storytelling: radio demands intimacy, but intimacy is a performance. When you’re a voice in someone’s car or kitchen, you’re not just delivering information; you’re borrowing trust.
The phrasing is doing double duty. “Speak untruths” is comically formal, almost Victorian, which lets him acknowledge deception without naming the uglier words (lie, con). That euphemism functions like a wink: yes, stories get shaped, scenes get reconstructed, narration gets polished. Journalism, especially the narrative kind Glass popularized, is always negotiating the gap between what happened and what makes sense to a listener. The joke is that admitting you massage the truth is itself an act of truth-telling, but it’s also a warning label you’re not supposed to peel off.
Context matters: Glass emerged as a defining voice of public radio, a space that sells itself on sincerity and rigor, and where tone can be mistaken for virtue. By joking about “admitting” untruths, he’s puncturing the sanctimony without surrendering the standard. The subtext is pragmatic: credibility is the only real currency on the air, and once you publicly devalue it, you don’t get to spend it again. The intent, then, is less confession than calibration - a self-aware reminder that trust isn’t a mood; it’s the job.
The phrasing is doing double duty. “Speak untruths” is comically formal, almost Victorian, which lets him acknowledge deception without naming the uglier words (lie, con). That euphemism functions like a wink: yes, stories get shaped, scenes get reconstructed, narration gets polished. Journalism, especially the narrative kind Glass popularized, is always negotiating the gap between what happened and what makes sense to a listener. The joke is that admitting you massage the truth is itself an act of truth-telling, but it’s also a warning label you’re not supposed to peel off.
Context matters: Glass emerged as a defining voice of public radio, a space that sells itself on sincerity and rigor, and where tone can be mistaken for virtue. By joking about “admitting” untruths, he’s puncturing the sanctimony without surrendering the standard. The subtext is pragmatic: credibility is the only real currency on the air, and once you publicly devalue it, you don’t get to spend it again. The intent, then, is less confession than calibration - a self-aware reminder that trust isn’t a mood; it’s the job.
Quote Details
| Topic | Witty One-Liners |
|---|
More Quotes by Ira
Add to List






