What to Do When Your Persuasion Attempts Go Awry
I’ve flown considerably more than a million airline miles, and I’ve never taken a single flight that didn’t have at least some turbulence during the ascent. Likewise, rarely do persuasion attempts get off the ground without at least a few bumps. I call this “assent turbulence.”
Persuasion turbulence occurs when new information appears, people are influenced by other opinions, or X factors are in play. Be it a promotion, a firing, or a merger, things happen that change a person’s perspective on your request. And the larger (or more complex) your request is, the more important it is for you to buckle your seat belt. But just because things get a bit bumpy doesn’t mean your flight won’t ultimately arrive at your intended destination. You simply need strategies for navigating “assent turbulence.” This chapter explores the inevitable bumps on your ascent to assent.
If you’ve agreed with (and put into action) even half of what we’ve covered in this book so far, you will dramatically decrease the assent turbulence you experience as your persuasive efforts take flight. That said, I’m not going to guarantee a completely smooth transition to yes. Here are seven factors that contribute to persuasion taking a wrong turn:
Lack of trust: You’ll know that trust is missing if your target fails to be forthcoming with information, asks for delays, acts guarded, and is curt and abrupt in responses—or worse, doesn’t ask any follow-up questions.
Response: Be 100 percent candid with your target, and address the elephant in the room: “Mike, we don’t seem to be on the same page with this issue, but it is important to both of us. So let’s be honest, see if we can forge a compromise, and be allies rather than adversaries.” Or this: “Monica, you seem hesitant. Why don’t we talk frankly about your concerns so we can both be more comfortable?” Ask people for the “favor” of honesty, trust, and patience, and, as Ben Franklin advised, they’ll return the favor and trust you more in the process.
Lack of value: This is indicated by no clear economic Return on Investment, no personal benefit for the target, and no attempt to link qualitative returns to actual evidence. Value, as they say, is in the eye of the beholder. And the other person’s eye is the one that needs to behold the benefits of your pitch.
Response: Have your target stipulate what an effective return would be, at least theoretically. What would he like to see happen? Start with the ROI and work backward, being sure to turn qualitative benefits into quantitative metrics whenever possible. (For more on this, revisit Chapter 4.)
Lack of clarity: You’ll know your pitch isn’t working when you’re hit with a slew of questions, insistence on qualifiers, digressions, and a lack of focus on what you believe the issue to be.
Response: Eschew jargon, and focus on specifics. Maybe your message isn’t getting through because your target is not as familiar with the industry or the project or the product as you. If you find yourself skipping over important details, slow down.
Poor timing: Sometimes, it’s not you; it’s the timing. Priorities may be elsewhere. Perhaps it’s your firm’s busy season, or IT problems in the office are leaving employees distracted and ornery. Or your specific target might just be having a bad day and dealing with issues of which you’re completely unaware.
Response: Try to avoid asking for something that directly conflicts with ongoing demands in the first place. (It is illadvised to swim against the tide, especially a riptide.) However, if you find that you’ve unwittingly posed an ill-timed request, try practicing reversal. As a high school wrestler, this was one of my specialty moves. Wresting control from my opponents earned me two points each time. In persuasion, it can get you much, much more. Try something like this: “You’ve got a ton on your plate, I know. That’s exactly why we should green-light this project. I can make sure it gets done right and involve you as much or as little as you want. This will prove to the organization that our group is not constrained by capacity.”
Opposing self-interest: This happens when the company, the department, or the individual has a huge economic advantage to do exactly the opposite of what you are pursuing (or to do nothing at all).
Response: This is a tough one, but there are ways to combat it, by appealing to corporate values or long-term benefits. Suggest that your pitch will not create a reversal of goals, and attempt to show your targets how a yes would support their private benefits in the longer term. You also can provide them with a quid pro quo they’re not expecting.
X factors: Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. Suddenly, an unexpected “expert,” such as an outside consultant, weighs in on your pitch. Or an unanticipated development, such as an acquisition or company reorganization, occurs. Or you learn of a personal relationship that could jeopardize your persuasion efficacy, such as the person you thought was in favor of an organizational shift is married to the cousin of the company’s general manager.
Response: Damn the torpedoes and keep your persuasion priority moving forward, irrespective of the new information. If that’s too bold of a move for you, make sure you have a Plan B. Adjust your ask in light of the new conditions, and try to co-opt new sources of expertise. If you can, change your timing to take advantage of the situation. For example, if a new head of marketing will be announced next week who is charged with taking the target’s efforts toward new and younger customers, explain how—with the new hire’s guidance—some of your ideas could easily be put into action.
Machiavellian impulses: I’m referring to the people who tell you one thing (to keep you happy) and then do another (to make them happy). Then they explain their behavior as a misunder-standing (to try to make you happy again). They will take credit for others’ work, disassociate themselves from errors of their own, and work behind the scenes to reach their goals—often entering and exiting alliances and friendships in revolving-door fashion.
Response: Machiavellian types also hate the bright light because it exposes their dark corners, so keep issues in the light. Contain them, because it’s pointless to fight them, and don’t attempt head-on (or headfirst) assaults. Rather, give them the opportunity to (eventually) reveal that the only side they’re ever on is their own.
The next time you find yourself bracing for an argument, let it go. Why? Because persuasion ends the moment arguing begins. All of a sudden, the objective becomes focused on “winning,” and that’s when you’ve already lost.
To prove this point, a group of researchers led by Emory University psychology and psychiatry professor Drew Westen studied functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging (fMRI) of both Democrats and Republicans as they responded to messages from their preferred candidate during the 2004 American presidential election. Specifically, Democrats were shown videos of self-contradictory remarks made by John Kerry, while Republicans were shown self-contradictory remarks from George W. Bush. Both groups of participants tended to dismiss the apparent discrepancies in a manner that demonstrated bias toward their favored candidate.
“Everyone from executives and judges to scientists and politicians may reason to emotionally biased judgments when they have a vested interest in how to interpret ‘the facts,’” Westen told the ScienceDaily website after his research was presented in 2006.
When your persuasion attempts reach that point, logic and reason flee your target. Whatever you say after that point of no return will be moot, unless you can steer the conversation back to a rational and legitimate discussion.
So how do you win an argument? Don’t let one start.
Fasten your seat belt: Regardless of your attempts to reduce assent turbulence, sometimes you’ll get the feeling that your persuasion situation is inexorably heading the wrong way. Professional pilots rate turbulence from Level 1 (light, slightly erratic changes that keep you from enjoying your glass of wine) to Level 4 (extreme, violent motions that convince you you’ll never fly again). Your own turbulence will have degrees of intensity as well.
Does someone simply not understand a facet of your request? (“Why do you need two hours at our national sales meeting next month?”) This is Level 1 turbulence, which can easily be ameliorated. However, if the CEO received misinformation and, in mafia-speak, “put a contract out on your idea,” you’re definitely navigating Level 4 turbulence. What to do?
Take the following 10 tips from the pilot’s flight manual and see what the pros do when they hit a rough patch of air:
An interesting psychological effect comes into play when you’ve engaged in a long and difficult persuasion campaign. If you’re like many professionals I encounter, you start out enthusiastically on your persuasion campaign with ever-increasing expectations. Then, after some turbulence, you enter a phase I call the “Trough of Disillusionment.” This is where you figuratively become battered and bruised and question whether you should even be pursuing your persuasion priority.
My advice? Hang in there! If I’ve learned one thing in 30 years of working toward yes, it’s that the persuasion process sometimes requires tenacity. That said, you do have to know when to say “when.” This is where the next idea will help . . .
I’m often asked how many times someone should attempt to obtain buy-in from a given target before acknowledging rejection. People will tell me that they’ve just attended some ridiculous sales seminar where they’ve been told that the “sale doesn’t begin until the customer says no.” Or that “the customer has to say no six times before you quit.” I learned how to sell in a Philadelphia Harley-Davidson dealership. Following that kind of advice would have gotten me punched in the mouth! The advice I use was taught to me from another Philly guy, Joel DeLuca, whom I introduced in Chapter 3. He taught me what I now call the “Platinum Rule of Persuasion,” because it works so well: Take two shots, and then salute.
What I mean by this is that if your target says no once, reformulate, and try again. If, after your second attempt, the target’s response is still no, salute and move on. (And, as we advised previously, live to persuade another day.) If you hold on to your request with the tenacity of a pit bull locked on to a rump roast, people are going to start saying things to you like, “I like your passion,” which, of course, is corporate-speak for, “We think you’ve lost your mind.”
So take two shots, then salute. Say something like, “Thanks for your consideration. I value your input and respect your decision. I’m all the better for having spent time with you on this idea.”
What do you do when your second shot is spent, and you’ve run out of options? Welcome to the NFL. Let’s face it. Over the course of your career, you’re going to get rejected more than once. If you’re not hearing no at least some of the time, you’re probably not stretching yourself enough. That said, how should you respond in that moment of rejection?
In the 1968 movie The Lion in Winter—set in England in 1183—King Henry II has imprisoned his conniving sons, Prince Geoffrey and Prince Richard, in the wine cellar. When they think they hear their father coming down the stairs to kill them, this exchange occurs:
PRINCE RICHARD: He’ll get no satisfaction out of me. He isn’t going to see me beg.
PRINCE GEOFFREY: My, you chivalric fool—as if the way one fell down mattered.
PRINCE RICHARD: When the fall is all that is, it matters. Show grace in the face of rejection.
If you practice the advice in this book, your batting average will be much higher than those in the Baseball Hall of Fame. Nevertheless, you will hear no on occasion, so here are eight ideas to help you bounce back:
Move on to what’s next. My favorite TV series is the seemingly timeless political epic The West Wing. In it, Martin Sheen plays the role of President Josiah “Jed” Bartlet. It’s a terrific program that captures a fairly accurate portrayal of life in the White House.
President Bartlet—whether he is triumphant in victory or is crushed in defeat—always responds in the same manner: “What’s next?” What a brilliant example of how to handle any situation! Activate the next issue on your agenda, and don’t deliberate over defeat. Autopsies are for medical examiners, not managers.
Realize that you’re not the problem. In his groundbreaking work (which should be required reading for every persuasion professional), Learned Optimism: How to Change Your Mind and Your Life (New York: Vintage Books, 2004), Ph.D. Martin E. P. Seligman notes that optimism won’t change what a salesperson says to a prospective buyer; rather, it will change what the salesperson says to himself after a negative exchange. Instead of saying, “I’m no good,” he might rationalize that “the client was too busy to fully consider my offer.” Furthermore, Seligman maintains that optimism can be learned.
The next time you hear no, take a page from Seligman’s playbook and recast the situation thus: Your particular target chose not to agree to your course of action at that particular time. That’s it. There is no connection to your worth as a person or the validity of your viewpoint.
Ignore unsolicited feedback. Alan Weiss tells the memorable story of how—following a rousing talk to a capacity crowd that gave him a standing ovation—a speech coach approached him and asked if she could provide some feedback. “Is there anything on the planet that might stop you?” Weiss wisecracked in his own inimitable way. She proceeded to tell him that she couldn’t concentrate on his message, because he constantly moved around onstage, and that he should stand still to make a point. The speech coach had other suggestions for him, too.
Pay no attention to suggestions from your so-called supporters—especially if they tell you that you should have tried harder or danced on the ceiling. Instead, seek out constructive feedback from credible individuals you trust.
Evaluate your entire body of work. Hank Aaron had a lifetime batting average of .305; Joe DiMaggio, .325; Ty Cobb, .366; Lou Gehrig, .340; Babe Ruth, .342. These guys failed approximately 7 times out of every 10 trips to the plate. Not only are they in the Baseball Hall of Fame today, their names are woven into the fabric of our language.
If, when all is said and done, people refer to you as the Joe DiMaggio of New Products, or the Hank Aaron of Project Management, or the Babe Ruth of Marketing—well, you’d be in some pretty solid company. Focus on your whole career, not one or two errors in the field.
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