OVER NEARLY THE last two decades, I have taught Verbal Judo to almost seventy thousand cops in nearly seven hundred police departments, and to thousands more in corporate and retail America. When I teach, I also learn, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all these frontline communicators, it’s this: If someone wants to ruin your credibility and get the advantage over you, all he has to do is make you angry enough to misuse words.
I believe that more than 90 percent of your success will lie in your delivery style, so I want to provide you with a series of principles to live by and to enact on a daily basis, making you more effective as a parent, a professional, and a friend.
DISCOVERED THE HARD WAY
Persuasion—generating voluntary compliance—is the essence of Verbal Judo, and at the heart of persuasion is a five-step model I discovered the hard way in police work. It suggests that you (1) Ask (Ethical Appeal), (2) Set Context (Reasonable Appeal), (3) Present Options (Personal Appeal), (4) Confirm (Practical Appeal), and (5) Act (Determination of Appropriate Action). (For a full discussion of the four types of appeals, see Chapter 21.)
Obviously, this didn’t all come to me in a flash. Less than a week after I got in trouble with the police chief over my brusque manner with citizens—remember in Chapter 3 all that hassling with offenders—I stopped another guy at about 3:00 A.M. He had ignored several stop signs, and when I approached his car I saw a whiskey bottle on the floor.
I snapped, “You, sir, step out!”
When I got the familiar response, “I’m not gettin’ out of this car!” I thought, Oh no. Here we go again. I didn’t want another tongue lashing from the chief, so I thought quickly and came at him from a slightly different direction. Let me remind you, I didn’t know what I was doing was right. I was just scrambling to try to stay out of trouble and still get my job done.
I softened my tone and said, “Sir, listen to me. There’s a whiskey bottle by your right leg. Now, sir, that constitutes under the law what we call an open-bottle charge. I have no choice but to have you step out, because I’m required to enter your vehicle and take a look at that bottle. For your safety and mine, sir, department policy says I have to ask you to step out. Would you do that for me?”
Make no mistake, I felt like a wimp at first. What I really wanted to do was pin the guy to the ground, cuff him up and rough him up and let him know he was tangling with the wrong lawman. You bet I did. But I was not going to let this guy get my goat, or my job. My calmer voice showed I was more in control. I switched from commanding to asking, and then I set the context by telling him why I was making my request.
The word context is crucial in all communication. Context comes from the Latin contexo (contextus) or possibly the Latin con and texo. Both mean “weave together” or “join.” I have come to learn that of ten drivers who are Difficult People (see Chapter 5) and refuse to get out of the car at first request, at least seven will do what you say if you only tell them why. One of the great psychological urges in this country is the desire to know. If you can tap in to that and let people know why you’re saying what you’re saying, you can usually generate voluntary compliance. Give them context. Weave together the elements of the situation.
When I set context, I grounded myself in professionalism. I gave reasons, policies, and procedures for what I was asking. My ego, so prevalent in that first command, “Get Out!” was then missing. (Your personal face will always create conflict because you virtually force the public, especially the Difficult People, who are wired that way, to come back at you.) Hardly realizing it, I had substituted my professional face for my personal face. I had moved from the ethical appeal of asking to a reasonable appeal of setting context.
Unfortunately, I had run into one of the few Difficult People not motivated by having the request put into context. This guy required my going to Step 3, presenting options and making a personal appeal, because he said, “I don’t know nothing about that bottle, Jack! I took a bunch of guys to a party last night and they drank whiskey. I don’t even drink whiskey. Not my bottle, not my problem. I’m not gettin’ out.”
I gotta tell you, George Thompson the civilian would just as soon have run his nightstick through one of the guy’s ears and out the other. But I’m a practical man. I like strokes as much as the next guy, and I didn’t want my chief on my case again. I tried a new approach, coming at the driver from yet another direction.
I said, “Sir, listen, that’s an interesting distinction between whether it’s your bottle or your buddies’, but the law does not make that distinction. The law says, ‘Bottle in car, you driver, you responsible.’ Now, sir, that might not even be fair, but ’tis so under the law. I’d like to think you’d cooperate with me. Step on out, sir. I can check that bottle, then I can chat with you about why I stopped you in the first place. That way it looks as if you’re gonna be able to go home tonight, put your feet up, be with your family, eat at your own table, sleep in your own bed, and get up in the morning and go to work. I’d like to think you’d want to do that, sir, but the law gives you another option if you wish. The law says if you want, you can come with us, eat with us, stay overnight, sleep with us. That’s called an arrest. Now, I don’t see any need to do that. That’s a lot of paperwork for me, that’s towing your car, and you know they’ll put dents on that thing down at the yard. You don’t need that kind of trouble, do you, sir? Why don’t you give us both a break and cooperate with me and step on out of there?”
Those were options, not threats, and they worked. Basically all I told the guy was he could get out of the car or go to jail, but notice that I left the power of choice with him. Notice also how specific I was. Specificity is one of the secrets of persuasion—helping people see what you want them to see. I tried to paint a picture of his going home, the problem over, contrasted with a picture of his coming with me, having his car towed, and going to jail. Those specifics made his choice clear and easy.
I knew I’d hit on something when the guy laughed and said, “I don’t need that kind of trouble, Officer,” and stepped out. Best of all, and here’s the point, he lost no face and he stepped out onto ground that I had created for him.
THE WHAT-IFS?
What if he hadn’t stepped out? Or what if your adversary still doesn’t cooperate when you’ve reached the third step of the Five-Step Hard Style? Unless you’re a cop, you may have met your match. Just for the sake of illustration, let me tell you what police officers sometimes have to do. They must move to what I call practical appeal, which is to confirm the resistance. Until my course began reaching police departments across America, cops really had no option at that point but to haul people out of their cars, using come-along holds. My contention is that there is one optional sentence left that still gives a troublemaker a chance to do the right thing and save further hassle.
If he hasn’t pulled a weapon, there’s a powerful sentence worth trying—and one you can use with your children, coworkers, or troublesome customers. It’s this: “Is there anything I can say or do at this time to earn your cooperation?” And then I always follow it with the optimistic “I’d sure like to think there is.”
Notice how pleasant and positive that is. I’ve seen this work on the street in tough cities in California and in Seattle, Washington. I saw this work with a guy who had fought the cops seventeen straight times before an officer tried this fourth step, the confirmation, which confirms whether or not the person will cooperate.
If this doesn’t work, and very occasionally it doesn’t, then the officer must act—Step 5. Interestingly for cops working in pairs is that the practical appeal question tips off the partner that Step 5 is next. If the perpetrator makes it clear that there is nothing that can be said or done to gain his cooperation, it’s time for action. I have alerted my partner, who is then moving to the next position, without having warned the subject.
The wrong language in that situation, the “if you don’t do this I’m going to do that” approach, always warns people that we’re about to act, making them dangerously ready for us. If I say to a subject, “Get out or I’m going to take you out!” he may come at me with a razor blade. But my suggested sentence is so pleasant that it keeps him off-balance. It allows me to justify my action later in court and sound good, and it alerts my partner without alerting the perpetrator. Now if the guy says, “That’s right, I’m not getting out,” the cop takes him out before he finishes the next sentence.
USING THIS AT HOME
Most of us have not been trained to deal with teenagers. Up to about age eleven or twelve, kids may give us some trouble, but basically they follow our directions. By the time they get to be thirteen or so, they enter the Why Generation. Everything that was once accepted is now questioned. I don’t know about you, but that’s where I found myself less effective than ever as a parent. No one ever told me how to persuade a teenager, but now I know that the Five-Step Hard Style is the key to persuasion.
For example, suppose I were to tell my son, “Taylor, before you go to the party, take the trash out.”
I might hear something like “Hey, Dad, I haven’t got time to do it tonight. I’m in a rush. Why don’t you do it?” Why don’t I do it? Most of us would snap at that response. We don’t set context or lay out options. We just move right to Step 3 and turn options into threats: “Hey, you don’t take the trash out, you don’t go out!”
Of course, all that gets you from the teenager is “That’s unfair, I have to do everything, you never do anything, blah, blah, blah.” Suddenly you’ve got yourself a serious argument.
Why not pleasantly go to Step 2—setting context? “Taylor, remember when we agreed six months ago that your allowance would be partially based on getting that trash to the curb every Friday night, before going out? Why don’t you just keep your word and do it?”
For some kids, appealing to their honor works immediately, as it usually does with my son. But what if you have a difficult teenager? You’re apt to hear, “Yeah, well, I meant to talk to you about that allowance business, anyway. I’m fed up with that. Get someone else to take the trash out because I’m in a hurry.”
Now it’s time to go setting and creating options instead of threats. Something like this might work: “Taylor, listen, we agreed, ‘When cans by curb, Taylor out for parties.’ You don’t have to physically take them out; your job is to see that they get out. If you want to bribe your sister or get Mama to take them out or you want to use voodoo, I don’t care. No cans out, no party.”
At this point, most kids would probably do it. There’s been no assault on Taylor’s personal face, and he can maintain his dignity by simply taking the trash out. But suppose he doesn’t. Suppose he says, “I’m not gonna do it! I’m in a hurry!” Then you have no choice. You move right to Step 4. “Taylor, listen! Is there anything I can say or do at this time to earn your cooperation and get you to keep your word and take the trash out? I’d sure like to think there is.”
I don’t know about your kids, but most kids know by that sentence that discussion is about over. The teenager can still take out the trash at that point and lose no credibility, no personal face. If he doesn’t, you can ground him, send him to his room, take away his allowance, or whatever punishment is appropriate in your house. But notice that he cannot blame you. In the end it was his choice. The punishment is an appropriate action based on a fourth step that he resisted. He had a right to resist. That’s how he earns his identity over time, flexing his muscles. We have to give our kids room to flex. If we’re always coming down on them, they can’t grow. But they must pay the consequences if they do not obey. Once the line is drawn, they must not cross it without punishment. Up to that point, we owe them the courtesy of looking for the keys to voluntary compliance.
The Five-Step Hard Style is a communication tactic that arms you to deal with difficult people under almost any condition. It provides you with decisiveness and certainty. You will always know where you are. You are in the asking stage (Step 1), the setting the context (telling why) stage (Step 2), the presenting of options (in the other person’s best interest) stage (Step 3), or the confirming (that some kind of cooperation is either forthcoming or not) stage (Step 4). If not, you have to act (Step 5).
You will never again be trapped into repeating orders over and over, which is a great sign of weakness in a parent, a police officer, an executive, or anyone in a position of authority. Repetition reveals weakness. Flexibility and variance of approach shows strength.