When you fundamentally disagree with someone, what is the best way to change their mind? Actually, that’s a trick question, even though I didn’t realize it when I wrote it.
It’s a trick question because it’s impossible to change someone’s mind. They have to change their own mind. You might be able to say or do something that will make it likelier that that will happen, but in the end, they—and only they—decide whether to change their opinion or belief. As David McRaney, author of How Minds Change, says: “All persuasion is self-persuasion.”
So, what is the most effective way to improve the odds that they will change their mind about the topic you disagree about?
Those of us who like to see ourselves as logical, reasonable critical thinkers (and who doesn’t?) believe we know the answer: present evidence that the other person doesn’t have or that disproves what they think they know, and weave that evidence into a logical chain or coherent story which they can’t honestly contradict. That’s why logical persuading is by far the most commonly used persuasion technique used worldwide, including in countries as diverse as China and America, Germany and India.[1]
But, how well does logical persuading work in actual practice? Think for a minute about your won-loss record for arguments you’ve had with other people. How many times have you actually “won” an argument? How many times has your counterpart said: “I didn’t know that”, or “I hadn’t thought about it that way”, or Thanks for setting me straight”? On the other hand, how many times have same words emanated from your mouth? My guess is that the overwhelming percentage of your debates have ended in a draw, meaning that neither party budged much from their initial opinion.
I’m not saying that evidence and proper logic don’t have a place in persuading someone. In many situations, they will be decisive. If I’m comparing brands of washing machines, prices, features, and customer ratings will carry more weight than emotions. But when you’re trying to get someone to change their mind about a deeply held belief, evidence and logic are not enough, and may even backfire.
Why don’t facts and evidence work well in overcoming deeply held beliefs and opinions? The first reason is that people often didn’t acquire their beliefs consciously, or because of verifiable facts. Do you remember when you began to believe in God, or to disbelieve? Do you recall the reasoning that led you to be patriotic, or to register with your political party? For any of these types of beliefs, how often have you reexamined them in the light of contradictory evidence?
In reality, we form many of our beliefs and opinions first, and then find support for them only if needed, such as when arguing for our position.
Second, you most likely absorbed many of your beliefs from the people around you. As highly social animals, we fear ostracism from the group. So, if our objective view of the situation makes us lean one way, but everyone we like or respect thinks otherwise, we can usually find a way to fit our view into theirs. For this reason, our values, beliefs and opinions become part of our identity—who we are and how we see ourselves. And identity is something we fiercely protect.
The extension of this is that we automatically mistrust anyone who is not part of our circle, who is not one of “us”. Our default reaction to any statement they make is one of disbelief, and we look for counterarguments. Or, we may simply refuse to listen.
Third, we often rely on reasoning rather than logic to defend our beliefs. What’s the difference? Logic is a tool for seeking truth. Reasoning is a process for finding support for our point of view. That difference explains why highly intelligent people often are the most articulate in defending wrong beliefs; they are good at finding clever ways to defend falsehoods.
By the way, says McRaney, that’s not a bug in our thinking. It’s a feature. Our brains evolved to make us better at argument. Argument evolved as a way for the group to combine and integrate diverse perspectives and bits of information, leading over time to better group decisions, and increased likelihood of group survival. As McRaney says, “Rather than looking for flaws in our own arguments, it’s better to let the other person find them, then adjust our arguments if necessary.” Presumably, a tribe full of good arguers will adapt better than one dominated by one individual. Thus, human reason evolved to convince others and be skeptical of their attempts to convince.
Last but certainly not least, we are cognitive misers, which is a nice way of saying we’re mentally lazy. It can be difficult or scary to reexamine a long-held belief, or to listen carefully and follow the logic that someone spent a long time working out for themselves. It’s much easier to pluck the first objection that comes to mind and use it to defend what we already have.
These reasons all combine to dilute the strength of even the most impeccable logic and evidence. But then, you might think, at least we have to try, don’t we? Even if we are unlikely to succeed, maybe some of what we say will get through. Maybe we will be able to plant a seed that will cause them to think, and maybe if we do enough of it, diluted or not, it will at least have some effect. Maybe over time you can win them over.
But argument is like pushing a porcupine. Not only will you fail to move it, but you will pay a price. Suppose someone says something that they haven’t thought through very well. You immediately spot the weakness and supply your counterargument. Human nature being what it is, their response to that is not usually to think carefully about what you said and use it to modify their own thinking. Instead, what usually happens is that they begin to generate counterarguments. What was a half-formed thought or merely an attitude is bolstered by reasons—their reasons. Now, they feel even more secure in their position.
So, if argument doesn’t work, what does? That’s the subject of my next post.
[1] Terry R. Bacon, Elements of Influence, p. 54.
This was a hard review for me to write, because I am so conflicted about 7 Rules of Power: Surprising–but True–Advice on How to Get Things Done and Advance Your Career, by Jeffrey Pfeffer.
Here’s the good news. If you follow Pfeffer’s advice, you are much more likely to attain positions of power and be able to use that power to get things done. The bad news is that you might not like the person you become—or reveal yourself to be.
Let’s address the good news first.
I’ve been a fan of Jeffrey Pfeffer’s work for a long time, since I first read The Knowing-Doing Gap almost 30 years ago. I’ve read at least six of his books, and like them because they are filled with evidence-based management and personal advice, and because his research leads him to counter so much of what passes for management advice, and focus on uncomfortable truths about how power actually works in the real world, vs. how idealist leadership “gurus” want it to be.
His latest book, 7 Rules of Power: Surprising—but True—Advice on How to Get Things Done, follows that same tradition: a lot of practical advice based on solid research. There is a lot to like in this book. (If you haven’t read Pfeffer before, this book is useful because it encapsulates a lot of his ideas briefly. If you have read Power or Managing with Power, you probably won’t learn much that’s new.)
Briefly, the 7 Rules are:
- Get out of your own way
- Break the rules
- Appear powerful
- Build a powerful brand
- Network relentlessly
- Use your power
- Success excuses (almost) everything
Without going into detail for each rule, the gist is this: the world is not fair, and you don’t move up or accumulate power simply by showing up and doing good work, especially if others are employing some of the 7 rules to leapfrog you.
I don’t argue against the efficacy of Pfeffer’s 7 rules in attaining and maintaining power. They make sense to me, and he backs up his claims with solid evidence.
But I strongly take issue with Pfeffer’s stance on attaining and using power. Pfeffer says that morality is irrelevant to the pursuit of power. He says “Leadership is not a moral pursuit. It is above all about the pragmatism of making things happen.”
My first critique is that the suggestion that the ends justify the means sounds suspiciously close to those who praised a certain dictator because he made the trains run on time, or evangelicals who tolerate extremely un-Christian behavior from a leader because it gets them seats on the Supreme Court. Even if the ends are honorable, the means always carry consequences that are harmful to many people along the way.
Second, the people who most enthusiastically embrace some of the behaviors described in the book are the least likely to pursue honorable, altruistic aims once they are in power. It’s not so much that power corrupts—more often it reveals true character, because those in power tend to care less about what others think and they get away with it.
Finally, Pfeffer correctly notes that success excuses a lot. Those who attain positions of great power are shielded by that power, so anything you do to get it will carry no consequences. That sadly appears to be more true than ever. But, like most “how to” books, he ignores the fact that it’s possible or even likely that one could carefully employ the first five rules and still fail to attain power, making the last two rules moot. They won’t get to the point where they are immune from the consequences of their behavior.
If you want practicality, this is the book for you. If you want morality, don’t read it. In the end, I ask myself, would I want my son or daughter to read it? I would give a cautious yes, but I would trust them to sort out what they are comfortable with. I agree with Pfeffer’s contention that I don’t have a right to preach to you, so the same applies to you.
For further reading:
Dave Brock and I have inadvertently begun a snowball of mutually referential posts since I dashed off a comment to a post on creating value. In his latest response, he states that: “First, these conversations can’t exist without a strong foundation of trust. If our customers don’t trust us, if we don’t trust them, we can’t open up.”
As much as I trust Dave’s wisdom, I don’t fully agree. Yes, trust is critical in creative sales conversations, but he implies the common misconception that trust takes a long time to establish. The reality is that trust can click almost instantly. In fact, Charles Green, co-author of The Trusted Advisor Fieldbook, says, “Contrary to popular wisdom, people make serious judgments of trust very quickly. Trust is a mix of the rational and emotional and snap emotional judgments are commonplace. People decide almost instantaneously whether they trust you—without much proof.”[1]
I used the word “click” because it accurately describes my experience over four decades of selling and teaching. In sales calls, as well as in training sessions (which are in effect sales calls also), I’ve often experienced those “click” moments, when you can tell you have quickly won someone’s trust—when arms unfold, they lean forward, and their face comes alive. When these moments happen there is a step change in the quality of the conversation, and magic can happen.
There are more principles and practices you can follow to increase the chances of having these moments than I can cover in one post, and I recommend several books at the end of this article. But, for what it’s worth, I would like to share some of those things that have worked for me over the years, all of which I stumbled on by accident, I have to admit!
- Listen to them as if your life depends on it. When I was a banker, I made a sales call on the owner of a sales training company. He offered me a job on the spot. Later, after I had gone to work for him, I asked him how he made such a snap decision. He said, “I was impressed with the way you listened to me.”
- Meet their challenge. I had gotten my foot in the door with a major office equipment manufacturer, but I had to pass the final test of meeting with their famously bilious EVP of Sales. He asked me, “So, you’re a sales consultant?” I replied, “No, I’m not that smart. I’m just a damn good sales trainer.” He said, “Good. I hate consultants”, and we got along great after that.
- Admit your ignorance. Long story which is recounted here, but I once had a prospect ask me why he should do business with me. My answer (which I had not planned), was “I don’t know.” He didn’t know how to respond to that, but I quickly said. “I don’t even know if you should do business with me. May I ask a few questions?” That one conversation turned into a long, mutually profitable relationship.
- Ask a not-so-dumb question. In one meeting, I had a sales in the bag, but I knew it wasn’t exactly the best approach for this client. I asked, “Can I just ask why you want to do this?” The VP of Training said, “What do you mean, we told you we want it; don’t you want the business?” I repeated my question and that sparked a whole line of discussion that resulted in a much larger—and more successful—project.
- Find something or someone in common. We’re predisposed to trust people who are similar to us, are “one of us”. If that something in common is a mutual friend that you both know and trust, it’s a double shortcut.
Of course, if trust can click instantly, it can also vanish just as quickly. But that’s a topic for a future article.
The Trusted Advisor Fieldbook, by Charles Green and Andrea Howe
The Code of Trust, by Robin Dreeke
The Confidence Game: Why We Fall for It…Every Time , by Maria Konnikova
[1] Charles H. Green and Andrea P. Howe, The Trusted Advisor Fieldbook, p. 5. By the way, this statement appears to reflect an evolution in Green’s thinking. In his original book, The Trusted Advisor, he says trust rarely develops instantly.
As a successful salesperson, you already understand the value of effective listening, and may have sharpened your skills through formal training in “active listening” techniques such as mirroring, probing, and paraphrasing.
If you’re skilled at these techniques, you’re likely to rank among the better listeners that your customers regularly encounter. But you can be even better if you understand and practice the less well-known concept of listening styles.[1]
In essence, there are four possible ways of listening to another person speak:
Relational listening is concerned with how the other person feels, and the goal is to understand them emotionally and to make a connection.
Analytic listening focuses on fully understanding the other person’s content–their argument or point of view, without judging it.
Task-oriented listening is about trying to quickly grasp the other person’s point and relate it to one’s own purposes for the conversation.
Critical listening judges the validity of the other person’s content by evaluating their logic and assessing their evidence.
As you read these four descriptions, you may have had a flash of recognition about your own tendencies. People tend to have a preferred or habitual style of thinking, and this colors what they hear and understand, and at the same time may affect how they are perceived by others. But these styles are not necessarily mutually exclusive, and any individual can consciously choose which style to use.
When to vary your style
Which style is most appropriate or effective? It depends.
What are you trying to accomplish in the conversation? Sometimes the other person just wants to vent and be heard, and the relational style works best, while the critical style could easily cause a rift between speaker and listener. Other times, especially with complex ideas, the analytical style might be best. Even the task-oriented and critical styles, which might seem impatient or rude, may apply depending on the situation. In fact, each can even be useful at different points during the same conversation.
And that leads us to how to deploy these styles appropriately in a sales conversation. Depending on where you are in the sales call or sales cycle, if you know which style is most appropriate at the time, you can increase connection, understanding, and even positioning. Let’s take a look at the typical tasks you need to accomplish during a sales conversation:
When you first meet a potential customer, there is usually some brief time to establish common ground. This “non-business” part of the meeting may seem to be irrelevant to the actual purpose of the call, but that attitude ignores eons of behavioral evolution. First impressions count for a lot, and one of the most important things that people size up—rapidly and unconsciously—is similarity and warmth. You can use the relational style to listen for commonalities and establish rapport. Moving too quickly to business may turn off the other person, particularly if their own style is also relational. At the same time, you need to focus on their mood, to ensure that you don’t go on too long when they’re showing signs of impatience.
As you move into the body of the sales call, you don’t turn off the relational listening radar, but you do shift your emphasis towards task-oriented listening, minus the impatience. At this stage, you are asking questions and then listening for information that relates to your call purpose. For example, if you’re looking for needs that you may be able to address, you will be listening for indications that they may have known problems, opportunities, changes and risks. The caveat is that you can’t be so focused on specific targeted needs that you miss hints about unexpected needs.
When you’ve heard needs that you can address, you may feel the urge to listen critically, as you formulate your pitch about how you can solve their problem. But it’s better to hold off and go into the analytical listening mode, to diagnose and better understand their issues before you launch into your prescription.
As the conversation progresses, you can use both relational and task-oriented listening to pick up buying signals, such as indications that they are thinking ahead to implementation, or concerns about how to get agreement from other stakeholders.
Critical listening, with its emphasis on searching for flaws in the customer’s thinking, would seem to be least appropriate for customer conversations. But there are times when you may need to correct their perceptions or statements. Don’t forget that selling can go both ways: the customer may be trying to sell you on a particular point of view as well. If they bring up an invalid objection, you can’t let it slide. They may have incomplete information, or they may be testing you, so you must listen critically to be able to respond appropriately. And of course the negotiation stage is where you may need your critical listening the most, to be able to counter their arguments designed to undermine your negotiating position.
Listening style affects your responses
So far we’ve examined listening styles as they relate to what’s going on in our minds as the customer is talking. But how we listen also makes a visible difference to the customer, because it influences our response to what we hear. For example, if the customer says, “I just think that switching to a new system will be too complicated for our team.” Here are possible responses:
Relational: “It’s a big decision, so it’s normal to feel a bit nervous about it.”
Analytical: “What specific aspects of the implementation concern you the most?”
Task-oriented: “We have a dedicated team that specializes in ensuring a smooth transition.”
Critical: “Your concerns are unfounded. The processes you’ve seen in the past are totally different.”
It’s a skill that takes practice
You might think that listening styles are just a matter of “different strokes for different folks”, but sales conversations are like swimming the individual medley in the Olympics—you can’t win without being able to master each stroke. We all have tendencies or habitual listening styles, but ultimately style is a choice, and a skill you can work on.
Here’s a small experiment you can run: next time you speak to a customer, pay attention to your own thoughts and responses to gain an awareness of your own style. Then, gradually expand your own range by consciously switching between style. Finally, try varying your responses and paying attention to the difference it makes.
[1] See, for example, “What’s Your Listening Style?”, by Rebecca D. Minehart, Benjamin B. Symon, Laura K. Rock, Harvard Business Review, May 31, 2022.
